Last Chance Chapter 8 R version
by hazeleyes571
Summary: The original Last Chance was removed and is not available here.This is the one suitable for ffnet, but is a continuation of that story and tells you where to find the rest.FINISHED AT LAST!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: C.S.I. is a trademarked product. Not making any money on this, just fun  
  
Title: Last Chance (8)  
  
Author: hazeleyes57  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: The hot tub!  
  
A/Note: Thank you to those of you that have tried to/ succeeded in reviewing Last Chance (CH7), I appreciate your comments more than you can imagine.   
  
Very sorry about the delay with this chapter, RL often interferes and so does CBS.   
  
Last Chance (8)  
  
................................  
  
Catherine Willows stood in the doorway of Grissom's office and looked at the piles of files on the desk. With a sense of déjà vu she walked towards the desk and stopped in front of it. She put her hands on her hips as she contemplated the amount of work present. Not for the first time she wondered how Grissom handled his paperwork.  
  
Obviously delegation was key.  
  
Unfortunately she couldn't think of anyone to hand this on to, nor could she come up with any compelling reason why she should not sit down at the desk and get stuck in.  
  
Apart from the fact that she didn't want to, of course.  
  
Catherine tutted as she walked around the desk and pulled the chair out. Long journey, single step and all that crap.  
  
As she pulled the first file towards her and flipped it open, she thought back to Gil's 'phone call yesterday.   
  
Talk about a hot potato. He was sorry about the short notice (try 'none' Gil), but he needed to take the week off and incidentally, Sara would be off too.  
  
Catherine had no real choice in the matter. Grissom had phrased it as a fait accompli and that was the end of it. However, as he had enough leave accumulated to give most of the lab staff a week off, she thought that it was about time that he gave himself a break.  
  
Which is why she was at work now at four in the afternoon, getting an early start on tonight. At least she had been able to collect Lindsay from school before she came to work. The only bright part of today had been the look on Lindsay's face when she realised that she would be having a sleepover round at Becky's.  
  
At least one person was happy.  
  
Catherine knew that Sara had some sort of personal crisis going on. Although they were never likely to be very close friends, they did have a mutual respect for each other's capabilities. As work colleagues with more than three years of working together they knew each other's moods and what circumstances that they were working under.  
  
She had wondered if Sara's current state of distress had been something to do with Grissom. She had dismissed the idea that his continued lack of involvement was what was upsetting Sara. Sara was used to that. Catherine then moved on to the theory that Grissom had gone against his own tenets and become involved with Sara.  
  
Catherine dismissed that theory too. If Sara had been involved with Grissom she wouldn't have been miserable. She would have been too happy to hide it. Sara wouldn't be the thin grey wraith that she had become of late.  
  
Now that Catherine had time to sit down and think about it - the report she was checking remained open and unread on the desk - Grissom had changed lately too.   
  
The change in him had been more subtle. There was a watchfulness about him that was new. It was...Catherine couldn't come up with any better description than the word 'protective'.   
  
Grissom was shielding Sara from something. But what?  
  
Catherine paused and looked up at Billy Bass over the office door. If he knew, he wasn't telling.  
  
She sighed and picked up her pen again and focused on the case file in front of her.  
  
"Whatever you're doing, Grissom, I hope it's more fun than this pile of crap."  
  
........................................  
  
Grissom and Sara returned to the house wet and getting more chilled by the minute. It had not stopped raining since their 'picnic' stop on the rug and both of them were looking forward to cleaning up and getting warm.  
  
They took their footwear off in the utility room beside the kitchen. They looked at each other for a moment, and then without saying anything they both removed their wet socks and jeans, leaving them in the sink before making their way straight to the bathroom.   
  
Sara looked around the bathroom for a large towel as Grissom leaned in to the shower and started the water running. He closed the cubicle door and turned around to see Sara just standing and shivering. He crossed the room to the towel cupboard.  
  
"Strip off and dump the clothes in the tub. We can sort them later. Here."  
  
Grissom handed Sara a large sage green bath sheet, keeping a second one for himself. He was all practicality and Sara didn't think twice about peeling off her wet shirt, bra and panties. She didn't bother drying herself with the towel, she just moved to the shower as Grissom stripped off his stuff too. Sara opened the cubicle door and stuck her arm in to check the water temperature.  
  
"Hey, this is so cool, you have a double size shower!"  
  
Grissom nodded, admiring the sight of Sara's backside, complete with mud and blades of grass stuck to her. He looked down and grinned when he saw that his knees were in the same state.  
  
"Ahuh. Sick and tired of hitting my ass on the opposite wall. It extends behind the false wall at the back of the toilet."  
  
Sara stepped into the shower and Grissom heard her 'mmm' of delight as the water rinsed her off.   
  
"Hey Gil, hurry up so we can go get in that tub!"  
  
As Grissom moved to the cubicle door and stepped in to join her, he thought to himself how much he liked hearing her call him 'Gil'.  
  
It was something he could get used to. If he let himself.  
  
"Need any assistance?"  
  
Sara turned around to face Grissom and gave him a big grin. Water cascaded down over her head and back as she moved slightly forward. She loved the way he looked her over from top to toe in a slow sensual perusal. Normally self-conscious about her body, she found that she didn't feel that way as he looked at her.  
  
"I could use a little help with my back."  
  
Grissom's lips pursed and he tipped his head sideways as if examining a work of art.  
  
"Looks fine from here, but first looks can be deceiving. I'd better check up close."  
  
Sara moved a little further out of the water towards him.  
  
"Mmm, yes. Can't be too careful."  
  
Grissom moved closer to Sara, picking up the shower gel as he did so. He squeezed a handful of the clear blue gel on to one palm, then rubbed it between his hands to warm it up. Sara obligingly turned around, presenting her back to him.  
  
Grissom placed his palms on Sara's shoulders and started to massage the gel on her skin, creating lather. He widened the circular movement until his hands overlapped each other's path over her spine and his fingers brushed the sides of her breasts on the outer part of the circuit.   
  
Even above the sound of the shower Grissom heard Sara's breath catch as his fingers moved over her wet skin. He moved his hands back to her spine and trailed lazily down to her bottom, still smoothing the lather over her. When he gripped her hips and massaged the base of her spine with his thumbs he saw Sara's head fall forward and her left hand reached out to hold on to the water pipe for support.  
  
Just as her other hand reached around towards him, Grissom - smirking - took hold of Sara's shoulders and moved her directly under the spray of hot water.  
  
"Okay, your back's done."  
  
His tone was brisk and Sara turned around spluttering in disbelief and frustration, spraying water in all directions.  
  
"What?!"  
  
Grissom moved forward into the water for the first time and his cold skin dimpled with the heat of the spray. He gave Sara his best 'innocent' look and handed her the shower gel.  
  
Sara - still wiping water off her face - looked from Grissom's face to the bottle and back to his face. A crafty look stole fleetingly over her features as she snatched the bottle and Grissom knew that revenge was on the cards. He smiled as he put his still cold arms around Sara's now warm body.  
  
Sara squealed and tried to get him to let go, but he was stronger by far.  
  
"You bastard! Lemme go, you're freezing!"  
  
She was laughing even as she shrieked and Grissom didn't fear for his life just yet.  
  
His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes. He smiled and hung on until he had warmed up and she had stopped squirming.   
  
"Do my back?"  
  
Sara looked at him in disbelief.  
  
"Ha, you should be so lucky!"  
  
Grissom's lips pursed with amusement.  
  
"Can't you take a joke?"  
  
Sara suddenly took in the whole picture. She was naked in the shower being teased by an equally naked Grissom. The genuine annoyance that she had felt when his cold arms had closed around her faded away. Her gaze softened as she looked up at him and saw the laughter in his eyes.   
  
This was the Grissom she loved with all her heart.  
  
"Yeah, I can take a joke. Turn around, big guy."  
  
"Flatterer."  
  
Grissom didn't release Sara until he had dipped in and snatched a quick kiss. He then turned around so that his back was to Sara. He failed to see the wicked glint in her eyes.  
  
Sara squeezed a large glob of the gel on to one hand and placed the tube on the shelf. Without allowing the gel to warm on her hand, she slapped the stuff between Grissom's shoulder blades and grinned as he jumped with shock.  
  
He whipped his head around and looked at the still grinning Sara.  
  
"What's the matter Gil? Can't you take a joke?"  
  
Grissom's head tipped and his mouth worked not to say a few choice words.   
  
He nodded eventually and acknowledged her victory.   
  
"Very good, Ms Sidle. You win. This round."  
  
Sara knew that he'd get his own back somehow, but she'd bet it would be fun.  
  
"For being such a good sport, I'll do your back."  
  
Grissom had started to face back the way he started; now he looked back at Sara to establish her veracity. One eyebrow raised and a non-committal 'mmm' accompanied it. She tried to look innocent.  
  
"C'mon, I hear that tub calling."  
  
Sara put fresh gel on her hands and warmed it up this time, then smoothed both of her palms over Grissom's back. She worked up the lather and moved in slow circles from his neck, across the wide shoulders, down his spine and over the curve of his buttocks. By the time Sara had got there, Grissom's head had begun to droop just as Sara's had done earlier. Sara took the last of the lather and moved closer until her breasts were against Grissom's back, then she slid her hands around his waist and up to his chest, toying with his nipples. She felt the vibration of his groan through her hands and her breasts.  
  
Sara's hands were moving south when Grissom reluctantly stopped them with his. He looked over his shoulder at Sara's face.   
  
"Do you have any idea what the stats are for people injured in the shower under just these circumstances?"  
  
"I'm guessing that you do. The only thing I can say in my defence is that you started it."  
  
"Ah, the 'mature' defence. Well, I'll take responsibility for stopping it too."  
  
"Party pooper."  
  
"Stop picking on an old man."  
  
The last of the lather had washed off them both and Grissom turned off the water. Sara looked at him with curiosity.  
  
"Do you see yourself as an old man?"  
  
Grissom looked at Sara, side-tracked for a moment by her natural beauty and yes, her youth.  
  
He thought for a moment, trying to give an honest answer.  
  
"Older certainly. But not old, no."  
  
Sara smiled as she turned to open the shower door.  
  
"Good. 'Cause whatever problem you have with this age thing exists only in your mind."  
  
She handed one of the large towels to Grissom and took the second one for herself.   
  
"So, this tub." Sara tucked the towel in beside her arm. "Just how private is it up here?"  
  
Her eyes sparkled with mischief and Grissom had no trouble figuring out her intent. He wrapped his towel around his waist and tucked it in.  
  
"Private enough."  
  
"Cool. C'mon then."  
  
Grissom grabbed a couple more towels and followed Sara out of the bathroom. He made a quick detour to the kitchen for a bottle of drink and a couple of wine glasses. They went out of the front door on to the veranda, and walked around the left side of the house. It was cool outside, and although the rain had stopped, the sun hadn't made much of an effort yet.   
  
When Sara saw the hot tub she realised why she hadn't seen it earlier through Grissom's bedroom window.  
  
Although on the side veranda, and under the protection of the overhanging roof, the hot tub was two thirds buried into the ground. Only about eighteen inches was above ground level.  
  
Sara knelt beside the edge of the tub and put her hand in the water. It was very warm. She looked up at Grissom with a grin.   
  
"Last one in 's a rotten egg!"  
  
Sara brushed her feet off and slid her legs into the water. Just as she unwrapped her towel and dropped it to the side she was amused to hear Grissom's reply.  
  
"First one in has to eat it."  
  
Sara lowered herself into the water and smirked up at him.  
  
"We still talking about eggs?"  
  
Grissom smiled ruefully as he placed the bottle and wineglasses on the table beside the tub.   
  
"I was, I can't speak for you."  
  
He took off his towel and wiped his feet before getting in the tub beside Sara.  
  
The seats in the tub meant that they were both under the water up to their shoulders. They sat beside each other, their shoulders touching; both facing the same lovely view that could be seen from Grissom's bed.  
  
"This is so cool, I can't believe that you're not up here every chance that you get."  
  
Grissom turned his head left to look at Sara. He admired her profile as she enjoyed the view. His gaze travelled down her body, most of it visible in the hot, clear, still water.   
  
Sara turned to see why he hadn't answered and caught him looking at her body.  
  
He looked like a kid in a candy store who'd been told that he could have anything he wanted.  
  
He met Sara's gaze and he looked serious.  
  
"The view was never this good."  
  
Sara blushed with pleasure under his scrutiny and sought his hand under the water. He clasped her hand and brought it to the surface where he kissed its back.  
  
His beard tickled Sara's hand and she smiled. So many memories to store up.  
  
"Would you like a drink?"  
  
At Grissom's question, Sara looked uncertainly at the bottle beside the two glasses.   
  
As soon as the word 'alcohol' popped into her head she was shocked to realise that she had not given any thought to her baby plans since the drive up to the cabin. The last time she had a drink, she had ended up drunk and propositioned Grissom. She hadn't had an alcoholic drink since. Now, in a rush of images almost too quick to identify, she realised that there was every possibility that she could already be pregnant.   
  
Sara didn't want to bring up the baby subject and spoil whatever they had going on here at the cabin. She didn't want to find out that Grissom was only having sex with her to get her pregnant. She wanted to keep her belief suspended for just a few more days.  
  
Although only a few seconds had passed, Grissom saw the conflict in Sara's expression. He could have kicked himself for making her think about the very thing that he had brought her here to forget.  
  
He twisted the bottle around so that Sara could see the label.  
  
"It's sparkling grape juice. Non alcohol. I keep it here for drinking in the hot tub when I'd normally have wine. Alcohol, hot tubs and usually being here on my own could be a recipe for disaster."  
  
Sara's expression cleared and she nodded.  
  
"Of course. Sure, I'd love some."  
  
Grissom handed Sara one of the wineglasses and opened the bottle. He poured some of the juice into her glass, then filled his own. He put the bottle down and faced Sara. He raised his glass to her.  
  
"A toast."  
  
Sara looked at him expectantly, raising her glass to his. Grissom thought for a moment.  
  
"To Sara, who rescued me."  
  
Sara looked startled for a moment, wondering what she had saved Grissom from. Then she realised.  
  
"Ah, Mrs Hutchinson. Well, you're welcome."  
  
Sara touched her glass to Grissom's and smiled.  
  
"To Gil's rescue."  
  
Grissom didn't bother to correct Sara as they both took a drink.  
  
He hadn't meant Mrs. Hutchinson at all.  
  
Sara leaned against Grissom and sighed happily. She was right where she wanted to be. With Gil.  
  
"Comfortable?"  
  
Grissom stirred and took another drink as he spoke.  
  
Sara nodded and 'umm'd' her agreement.  
  
Grissom lifted his left arm and Sara moved within its circle, settling back against Grissom's chest. The warm water swirled and eddied around them before settling back to its former calm state.   
  
"Even better."  
  
Sara's murmur was quiet, but Grissom heard her and smiled in agreement.  
  
It certainly was.  
  
. . . . . . . . . . .   
  
This is not the end of this chapter, but the rating R forbids it being uploaded here. The rest of the chapter can be found   
  
IrishDachsie's smut fic shelter  
  
Moggie's site ;   
  
Or look up the message boards on 'Your Tax Dollars At Work'.  
  
Sorry for the trouble, but I don't make the rules. 


	2. Last Chance 10

Disclaimer: C.S.I. is not owned by me or mine and I'm just stirring the mix to oxygenate.  
  
Title: Last Chance (10)  
  
Author: hazeleyes57  
  
Rating: PG for this chapter only.  
  
Summary: Sara gets a shock, but so does Grissom.  
  
Author's note: I shall be posting this to 'Last Chance' on ffnet as it's 'suitable' for the ratings. I have not done two versions this time, so don't go looking for the full smut version. It didn't feel appropriate anywhere in this chapter and I didn't want to put some in just for the sake of it. Normal service may be resumed in Ch 11 smirk  
  
For those who are wondering about continuity of chapters, the omitted chapters are not suitable to post here and are on Irishdachsie's site and adultfanfiction net. Info available on the 'yourtaxdollarsat' work message boards.  
  
Last Chance Chapter 10  
  
The drive to the hospital was only ten minutes but it seemed like a lifetime to Sara. The only reason that she was keeping it together was that she could see that Grissom was still alive.  
  
Sara couldn't take in all of the next few hours as she was cleaned up and discharged with butterfly tape over her own injury, but she grasped enough to follow what was happening. Grissom had developed a haematoma, a vascular accident caused by the impact in the accident. It had been operated on and cleared and everything had gone well. The surgeon had come to see her once he had finished in theatre.  
  
Grissom was in recovery, and Sara would be allowed to see him once he was taken to ICU.  
  
At her horrified look, the surgeon had explained that it was a precautionary measure and quite usual in these cases.  
  
So Sara had waited some more, fuelled by too much coffee and not enough food. She was asked to sign for Grissom's personal effects and was given them in an envelope. The hospital didn't want the responsibility of looking after them if she could do it instead.  
  
At long last Sara became aware that a nurse had gone to the main nurses station and she had heard the name 'Grissom'. The receptionist had nodded towards Sara.  
  
She was taken to a large ward with four intensive care beds. The nurse explained what was happening and offered to answer any questions that she may have. Three beds were occupied, two on the opposite side of the room, and Grissom on the nearside.  
  
Sara was not unfamiliar with the set up in intensive care, and she had seen enough analysers in her time not to be put off by all the equipment.  
  
But it was quite another matter to see someone that you loved in the middle of it all.  
  
Sara pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down, taking Grissom's hand in hers. She took care not to disturb anything attached to him and just looked at him. He was exceptionally pale and the dressing was bigger than she had been expecting.  
  
The stress of the last few hours and the accident finally caught up with her and she struggled to keep the tears at bay. Sara reached for the box of tissues on the table and tore out a handful. She wiped away the tears but they kept coming.  
  
She cried as quietly as she could, but the Head Nurse came over after a few minutes and asked her if she needed anything.  
  
Sara shook her head. The only thing she needed right now was lying in this bed.  
  
Eventually the nurse was called away, and by then Sara had managed to stop crying. She rested her head on her left arm and held Grissom's hand with her right hand.  
  
She was exhausted, and allowed her eyes to close briefly.  
  
Grissom's hearing returned first. He couldn't make sense of anything for a moment, but with returning consciousness he realised that he was in hospital. His head hurt like the devil, and his face ached. His eyes were open and the light was too bright for him as his vision returned. He closed his eyes again for a moment. He moved his legs slightly and they responded. Good. His right hand had a drip in the back of it, his left...appeared to be pinned down in some way. It dawned on him with some surprise that someone was holding his hand. Curiosity made him open his eyes part way to see who it was.  
  
Dark hair.  
  
Sara.  
  
Sara Sidle was holding his hand.  
  
What on Earth had happened?  
  
He savoured the feeling of Sara's hand in his own. It felt both strange and yet familiar.  
  
Whatever had happened must have been serious for her to be holding his hand. He focused as best as he could on her face. The first thing he noticed was the butterfly strip on her forehead. Then the blood that hadn't entirely been cleaned up. And the bruising. He felt remarkably lucid for someone just waking up and managed to draw a conclusion.  
  
There must have been some kind of an accident.  
  
On the way to or from a crime scene?  
  
Grissom tried to remove his hand from Sara's before she woke up and realised that he knew that she had been holding it.  
  
Sara's fingers tightened automatically to prevent him from moving away, her eyes opened and her head came up groggily. He could see that her eyes were red from crying.  
  
Grissom was stunned at the joy he saw on her face when she realised that he was awake.  
  
"Oh, honey! I was so worried! Are you okay? How do you feel?"  
  
Sara was on her feet in a moment, leaning towards his face, intending to kiss him.  
  
Grissom recoiled in stunned surprise.  
  
Honey?  
  
"What the hell do you think you are doing?"  
  
Sara froze.  
  
"Gil?"  
  
Her voice was uncertain, and her face paled, making the dried blood stand out starkly.  
  
Grissom looked up at her with barely masked impatience.  
  
"Since when have you called me 'Gil'?"  
  
Sara backed away from the bed in horror. She felt faint but she kept going. She had to get a doctor. This had to be a dream. She'd wake up beside Gil in a minute and they'd laugh about it. Yes, a terrible nightmare.  
  
Sara made it to the nurses station and told the Head Nurse that Grissom was awake and that he obviously didn't remember the accident or immediately before it.  
  
She was still speaking when the darkness hovering on the edge of her vision rose up and claimed her.  
  
The Head Nurse caught Sara as she slumped unconscious, gently lowering her to the floor and placing her in the recovery position.  
  
She paged the Senior Registrar who was looking after her patient and then took care of Sara.  
  
When Grissom looked up at the man who introduced himself as his doctor, he thought how much he looked like Greg. At about age twelve.  
  
He sighed.  
  
At least maybe now he would get some answers. Like where the hell Sara was for a start. She had rushed off looking like a ghost and not returned. He didn't know what had got into her. He hadn't meant to sound so brusque, but she had shocked him rigid when he thought that she was going to kiss him.  
  
He would have liked that all too much.  
  
For now he would have to settle for finding out how he and Sara had come to be injured.  
  
Dr Beckett, aka Greg lookalike, returned to the nurses' station where he was directed to the relatives' room.  
  
Sara and the nurse with her looked round when the door opened.  
  
"I have just examined Mr Grissom, and I'm assuming that you would like to be present when I give him my conclusions."  
  
Hope flared briefly in Sara, but died down to a flicker equally quickly. Grissom hadn't asked for her to be present, but the staff had naturally concluded that she would want to be there when he was given the news, good or bad.  
  
Sara nodded and got up slowly. She followed the Doctor back to Grissom's bed in the ICU.  
  
The hot sweet tea that she had been given when she came around was not sitting too well with her, and her stomach churned with anxiety.  
  
Grissom and Sara's gazes sought each other out immediately; hers was anxious, his puzzled, but there was no recognition in Grissom's eyes of Sara as anything other than a work colleague.  
  
They both missed the start of the Doctor's findings as they looked at each other and wondered what the other was thinking.  
  
"...so it seems like a classic case. How far back can you remember, Mr Grissom?"  
  
Grissom mentally shook himself and tried to recall what was the last thing he could remember.  
  
He didn't know.  
  
"What is today's date?"  
  
He didn't know that one either.  
  
Sara stirred.  
  
"What case you working on Grissom?"  
  
The thought popped straight into his head.  
  
"DB found in a Dumpster. Identified by an unusual tattoo."  
  
Sara thought back for a moment, then nodded.  
  
She turned to the doctor.  
  
"Three months ago."  
  
"What?"  
  
Grissom's question hung in the air. He had lost three months?  
  
Sara was desperately hanging on to her professionalism with every fibre of her being. She couldn't afford to let even a crack show, or she would lose it completely. She forced herself to appear calm and almost detached. It was one of the most difficult things that she had ever done.  
  
The doctor 'hmm'd' as he looked at his patient and then glanced sideways at the woman standing at the end of the bed.  
  
"As I have just mentioned, retrograde amnesia often follows a traumatic incident. The trauma can be mental or physical, or indeed both."  
  
Dr Beckett immediately noticed that the brunette had stiffened at his words, although his patient just looked confused.  
  
"Well, the trauma is obviously physical. When will my memory return? When the wound is healed?"  
  
"I can't say. There are no set rules to amnesia, any more than I could say that another bang on the head could restore what you have lost. From our talk earlier, you appear to remember everything about your life up until recently - you are aware who you are, what you do - but for some reason, the last three months are missing. Was there anything that was preying on your mind that was especially troubling you three months ago?"  
  
Grissom looked across the end of the bed to Sara. She was looking down at the bed covering, and she didn't look up at him, even when he paused.  
  
"No. Nothing unusual."  
  
His voice sounded abrupt, even to himself. There was certainly nothing new troubling him.  
  
Something old was. Or perhaps he should say that the problem was old.  
  
Sara could not drag her eyes away from the dull, repetitive pattern on the bed's top cover. She felt hugely guilty. She couldn't help but feel that she was partly responsible for the mental aspects of this trauma.  
  
Grissom's subconscious had obviously been looking for a way out.  
  
Sara's intelligence was telling her that she did not coerce anything out of Grissom and had nothing to feel guilty about. She was in no doubt that he loved her, regardless of how that discovery had come about.  
  
Her emotional half was making her feel bad for even asking Grissom for help in the first place.  
  
Layered over everything else was the overwhelming grief of loss. Loss of 'her' Gil, the man she loved so very much. The man who now looking at her with such a frustrated and baffled expression.  
  
She had to have faith. She had to believe that Grissom would get his memory back.  
  
Sara looked down at her hands and drew a sharp breath. She shoved her hands in her pockets to hide their betraying tremble.  
  
The Doctor was still speaking, and Sara tuned back into the conversation some further tests. There will be postoperative swelling, and we may see some improvement once that begins to subside. Quite often these things resolve spontaneously."  
  
Grissom stirred.  
  
"How often?"  
  
The Doctor smiled a professional smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.  
  
"Often enough to be encouraging."  
  
Grissom was not convinced and neither was Sara.  
  
One of the ICU staff came over to check Grissom's observations and he suffered in silence while they completed the checks. Blood pressure, pulse, respiration and pupil dilation. The nurse was left in no doubt of Grissom's distaste at the invasion of his personal space.  
  
Dr Beckett took advantage of the interruption to take his leave. Or escape.  
  
"We'll be keeping you in for a few days to check that everything has settled down after the operation, then you'll be discharged to recuperate at home for at least a week."  
  
Grissom looked like he was about to protest, but Sara spoke first.  
  
"Thank you Dr Beckett, I'm sure that your patient will do what's needed to get out of here as soon as possible."  
  
Grissom glared at Sara to indicate that he was perfectly capable of speaking up for himself.  
  
Sara's returning stare indicated that he should quit while he was ahead. Something in her steely gaze must have got through because he subsided without saying anything.  
  
Grissom lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes. It was not in a fit of pique. Even that small non-argument had tired him.  
  
Sara followed the Doctor out of the unit. She caught up with him in the corridor and stopped him.  
  
She was too worried about Grissom to bother about not appearing to be blunt.  
  
"Tell me what I can do to help him get his memory back."  
  
Dr Beckett looked apologetic.  
  
"Nothing. It's no good trying to force him to remember. If it was a traumatic event that has triggered this, making him remember it before his brain is ready could be detrimental to his ultimate recovery."  
  
Sara clutched at a straw.  
  
"You said 'if it was a traumatic event'. What if it wasn't, and it's just because of the physical trauma?"  
  
Beckett shrugged.  
  
"If - and I repeat if - it is simply physical, then he may start to get flashes of memory as the damage heals. Moments of déjà vu or possibly even in his subconscious while he is dreaming. Or maybe some word or event could trigger the recall in its entirety. But it must not be forced. If you think that there is something that he has deliberately blocked out, then you will have to wait for him to tell you about it. Unless he asks the right questions, I advise you not tell him what you know."  
  
Sara looked sick.  
  
"Lemme get this straight. I am not allowed to tell him what has happened in the last three months?"  
  
"If you think that something in that time is what is causing the memory loss, then no, you cannot tell him what you know."  
  
"Even if it's something very important that I know he really would want to know?"  
  
"Especially if it's very important."  
  
"But - "  
  
Beckett's pager interrupted Sara's next question. He looked at the screen and turned to go the other way up the corridor, his mind already on his next job.  
  
"Sorry, crash call."  
  
Dr Beckett left Sara standing alone in the corridor. People walked past her in both directions, some looking at her with curiosity, others not even noticing her.  
  
Sara didn't see any of them. All she could see was her own anguish, a deep pain that tore at her insides and left her breathless.  
  
Her Grissom had gone and she wasn't even allowed to try to find him.  
  
She was sure that she would cry later, but right at this moment she just felt numb. She tried to take comfort in the fact that Grissom was alive and mostly well, even if not exactly kicking. It was better than she had expected while he had been unconscious in the ambulance.  
  
Sara wasn't sure how long she stood there, but eventually she surfaced sufficiently enough to walk back to the ICU.  
  
Grissom was drifting in and out of light sleep. The unfamiliar noises of the ICU made it difficult to relax, and he didn't like the lack of privacy.  
  
He heard an extra noise and opened his eyes in time to see Sara start to turn away.  
  
"Sara? I thought that you had gone."  
  
Sara jumped and turned guiltily. She shoved her hands in her pockets again, trying to look relaxed.  
  
"I didn't mean to wake you."  
  
Grissom frowned. Sara's body language was wrong. How he knew this he didn't know, but he did.  
  
"You didn't. Can't sleep with all this."  
  
He looked more closely at her. She looked pale and drained.  
  
Sara looked around at the equipment again. Anything rather than look at Grissom with both love and despair in her eyes.  
  
"No. I s'pose not."  
  
"You need to go home Sara. There's no reason to remain here."  
  
She would have begged to differ; she had reason enough.  
  
"I can't, my purse is still in the Denali. I have no money for a cab."  
  
Grissom frowned and looked around for his clothes.  
  
"I must have had my jacket on, my wallet has enough in it for you to get home."  
  
Sara suddenly remembered the personal effects envelope. She fished it out of the pocket of her jeans and handed it to Grissom.  
  
"Sorry, they wanted me to sign for the stuff because you were unconscious."  
  
Grissom took the proffered envelope.  
  
"This is open. Didn't they seal it?"  
  
Sara flushed with guilt. She had opened it for a very good reason, but one that she couldn't explain here and now.  
  
"Er, yeah, but they needed me to check the inventory."  
  
Grissom looked at her curiously, but didn't question her further. He opened his wallet and took out some notes.  
  
"Okay. Take this. Get yourself home and get some food and rest. In that order."  
  
A reluctant smile tugged at Sara's lips briefly.  
  
"Yes, Boss."  
  
Grissom's lips twitched but he didn't refer to her comment when he spoke.  
  
"If you had to sign for these things, you had better take them with you. They're not going to let me leave here today. Or tomorrow.  
  
He took something else from the envelope. He looked at whatever it was in his palm for a long moment, obviously deep in thought.  
  
Sara thought that she heard him sigh, but wasn't sure.  
  
Grissom looked up at Sara expecting to make eye contact, but again she was looking at something else. She looked guilty and he wondered why.  
  
"I'm sorry to have to ask, but Catherine will probably be at work by now. Would you mind getting me a few things from my place, and bringing them in for me?"  
  
Sara swallowed a lump in her throat. Yesterday he would have asked her without thought, today he wants Catherine.  
  
She nodded once and held her hand out for the keys to the townhouse.  
  
He didn't remember that they had already had a second set cut for her, and she couldn't tell him.  
  
Somehow their fingers touched as he handed over the keys, and Sara fervently hoped that he had felt the jolt of connection that she had.  
  
She saw him frown as he pulled his hand back and uttered a terse 'thanks'.  
  
She waited a couple of beats to see if he would add anything, but he didn't.  
  
"What is it that you want?"  
  
Grissom looked startled for a second. What did he want from her?  
  
Nothing. Everything.  
  
"Oh. Usual stuff, toiletries, facecloth, and toothbrush. A comb. It's all in the bathroom."  
  
Sara shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.  
  
"Clothes? Pj's?" She prompted.  
  
Grissom realised that Sara would be going to his townhouse and going through his things. It was a disquieting thought.  
  
"Er, middle drawer, two sets."  
  
Sara had a sudden realisation of her own.  
  
All Grissom's toiletries were in the wrecked Denali. Along with hers.  
  
"Box - underwear?"  
  
Sara cursed inwardly. In Grissom's current reality she did not know that he wore boxers.  
  
"Top drawer."  
  
Grissom did not feel comfortable discussing his underwear with Sara, and she didn't look too thrilled either.  
  
But he'd bet that it wasn't for the same reason.  
  
Sara sneaked a look at her watch. She would have to find out where the Denali had been towed and collect their stuff.  
  
"Am I keeping you?"  
  
Sara looked across the bed covers at Grissom and scrambled for an explanation.  
  
"No." She patted her watch absently. "I was just checking how quickly I could be back here with the traffic and all."  
  
"There's no hurry. Get your food and rest first; I'm not going anywhere. Have you notified anyone at work about the accident?"  
  
Sara's face went blank. She hadn't notified anyone at work simply because she had been too worried to think straight. The fact that they weren't due back to work for another two days, on Monday night, had only just occurred to her.  
  
"No. No cell, no money. They're not expecting you at work until Monday night anyway."  
  
Grissom had been about to ask Sara if they had been on their way to or from a crime scene when the accident had happened, but another startling thought had occurred.  
  
The incident had happened at midday, so neither of them should have been working.  
  
Why had Sara been with him?  
  
He opened his mouth to ask, but Sara forestalled him.  
  
"I'd better go. You need to rest and work on that memory thing."  
  
She started to back away from the bed, making her feet move even though she wanted to stay.  
  
"I'll be back later with your stuff. I'll let Catherine know what's happened."  
  
Before Grissom could form a response of any kind, Sara turned and fled.  
  
Grissom was left with a thumping headache and his instincts screaming at him that 'something' was seriously wrong.  
  
He hated it when his questions far outnumbered his answers.  
  
As Sara moved further and further away from the love of her life, she tried to figure out how much to tell Catherine. She had to find out what the other woman knew.  
  
What had Grissom told her in that 'phone call?  
  
Two hours later Sara sank gratefully into her sofa. She was almost too tired to eat, but had bought some sandwiches on the way home from the impound yard.  
  
She looked across her apartment to the three cases by the front door and remembered Grissom hauling her cases out and telling her to 'pack for the mountains'.  
  
A lifetime ago.  
  
After having a drink of the bottled water, Sara opened her cheese salad sandwich and took a bite, chewing without enthusiasm. She had to keep her strength up.  
  
She ate the rest of the sandwich methodically, barely aware of the flavour. When she had finished she disposed of the wrapper and rinsed her hands. She looked at the cases. Her back straightened as she steeled herself for her task. She wouldn't be able to rest until she had sorted out the items that Grissom had wanted.  
  
Sara discovered immediately that Grissom's case was locked. Typical.  
  
She picked out the smallest of the keys on his keyring and was surprised when it didn't fit the case. There were only four keys to choose from, so she tried another.  
  
It was the right one and Sara opened the case and laid it flat on the floor.  
  
She was assailed by the scent of Grissom. It summoned up a slew of memories as she hunted for the packed washbag and she found that her cheeks were wet with tears.  
  
Sara brushed them away and sniffed. She didn't normally consider herself a weepy person, but she didn't seem able to stop. She put it down to posttraumatic shock and the grief of loss of 'her' Gil.  
  
She closed her eyes briefly as she sat down on the floor beside the case and hugged the washbag to her chest. She just needed a minute.  
  
Catherine Willows cursed as the phone on Grissom's desk started ringing as she was leaving the office. She was tempted to leave it but it was the 'external' ring tone and might be important.  
  
Like the ten other things that she should be doing right now.  
  
She stalked over to the desk, her eyes rolling skyward in supplication as she snatched the handset up. She managed not to snarl.  
  
"Willows."  
  
She listened for a few moments, then sat down with a thump on Grissom's chair.  
  
"Is he okay? Are you okay? What happened?"  
  
Catherine listened for several minutes, her pale face regaining some of its colour when she realised that both Sara and Grissom were all right.  
  
"Is there anything that you need? Or that we can do to help?"  
  
Catherine pulled a notepad over and wrote down the dates that Grissom would be on sick leave.  
  
"What can they tell you about the amnesia?"  
  
Her tone was serious for more than one reason.  
  
"That's all very well, but you know as well as I do that Grissom has three months of evidence locked away in his head. If he can't testify..."  
  
The consequences could be devastating for some of their cases. Especially for the victims and their families. Jeez.  
  
As she listened she doodled on the note pad, writing three months as '3/12' and circling it a couple of times. The pen stopped moving suddenly.  
"What? That's ridiculous! We have to get him up to speed and jogging his memory is just the thing to do it...bullshit, he didn't have anything worrying him. That's crap and you know it. Yeah, figures. Okay, I'll sort his paperwork from this end. No, that's okay, you feel better soon."  
  
Catherine listened for a few more moments, getting ready to hang up and already mentally sorting the shift rota for the next few weeks. At Sara's next question she suddenly sat up straight and shifted gears. Had she been the animal that her name was often abbreviated to, her ears would have pricked up.  
  
"He didn't say much at all. Just that you had to get away because your doctor had been recommending it for some time and that you had resisted her advice. Reading between the lines I assumed that he was taking you to your family for a rest."  
  
Her assumption begged an explanation but Sara didn't correct her or give her any further information. It was very frustrating. Catherine became aware that she was tapping the pen rapidly on the desk and stopped it.  
  
"No, we can cope. You take the time that the doctor suggests, and if you're up to it, you can keep an eye on Grissom. Tell him we'll be in to see him tomorrow. Later."  
  
Catherine put the handset down on the 'phone.  
  
There had been a certain amount of mischievous glee in Catherine's voice as she suggested that Sara take care of Grissom. If anyone could jog his memory she could.  
  
Catherine paused as she had a sudden thought.  
  
Perhaps what she should really be doing was to find out who Grissom had been waiting for the day that she went around to his place and he'd been about to leave, practically shoving her off the doorstep in his haste to get to his guest. He'd not even noticed that he was still wearing his slippers.  
  
Perhaps the mysterious woman had been the troubling event that Grissom was blocking out.  
  
She'd give her favourite new Manolos to know just exactly what had happened in the last two weeks.  
  
Catherine was quite certain that it was not what Gil had led her to believe.  
  
Sara took a deep cleansing breath and let it out gently as she unlocked the front door to Grissom's town house. She used her own set of keys, partly to check that they actually worked, and partly because they were part of the new life that she and Grissom had been going to try to build. She needed to believe that that life would be retrievable.  
  
The door swung open easily in front of her and she stepped into the hallway leading to the large main room. She carried Grissom's case as far as the cupboards in the hall area and put it down. The townhouse was very warm and smelled closed up. Sara found the control for the air conditioning and turned it on to try to make a dent in the heat before she left.  
  
She retrieved the case, carried it through to Grissom's bedroom and swung it up onto the bed. She took a few moments to look around the room.  
  
It was a different style to Grissom's room in the cabin, but it was coolly masculine in light blue and grey, and Sara could see him in it very easily. There was a large double bed, two bedside tables with drawers, a five-drawer chest, and the closet.  
  
Sara wandered around the room, touching a little statuette on the chest of drawers, looking at the Vettriano on the wall opposite the bed and finally coming to a halt beside the right hand bedside table, which was clearly the one Grissom used. A book of poems lay closed but marked with a piece of paper.  
  
Unable to resist, Sara tried the top drawer, but found it locked. It had a very small keyhole, and in a flash of inspiration she tried the smallest key on Grissom's keyring.  
  
To her surprise it did fit and she wondered what he had locked in there that was so important that he kept the key with him at all times.  
  
About to open the drawer, Sara hesitated. This really was private stuff. Perhaps she should wait until her Gil could choose to show her the contents.  
  
Nah.  
  
She pulled open the drawer and was surprised to find it almost empty. There were just a couple of photographs lying face down, and a computer disk. She picked the photos up and turned them over. She smiled in recognition.  
  
"So that's where they went."  
  
They were two photographs taken last Christmas at work. Greg had insisted on getting a couple of shots to go on the break room's noticeboard. He had seated Sara and Catherine, and had all the men stand behind the two women. Greg was missing in one and Nick in the other, as they had taken the pictures. Both pictures had Grissom standing behind Sara with what she now thought of as a slightly proprietorial air.  
  
The pictures had mysteriously disappeared in January during a noticeboard tidy up.  
  
Sara had been particularly peeved, as she had been hoping to acquire them herself.  
  
Sara smiled as she looked at the two photographs. The pictures were indeed worth a thousand words.  
  
"Well. You crafty..."  
  
She felt considerably cheered up.  
  
She wondered what was on the disk. It looked like the same type that Grissom had used to store the AI stuff off the net, but this one was not labelled, so she couldn't be sure without booting up Grissom's laptop and she wasn't willing to go that far.  
  
Sara replaced everything as it was and locked the drawer.  
  
She felt comforted by her find. If Grissom had been interested enough to take the pictures from the notice board he would find his way back to her.  
  
And if - after a reasonable amount of recovery time - he didn't or couldn't get back, then she would go and find him.  
  
With a renewed sense of purpose, Sara got up from the bed and opened Grissom's case. She hung up the jacket so that it wouldn't be creased, but she left everything else in the case, and left the case open on the bed.  
  
She collected the things that Grissom had wanted but didn't put the rest away. She might not be able to jog his memory directly, but she wanted him to be thinking hard. Leaving the case out and open would make him wonder where he had been - he who never took a break - and why he had been away. The contents would also make him realise that it had been a social break, not a work related one.  
  
Sara went in to the bathroom - more blue and grey - and had a quick look for a spare toothbrush in the mirrored cabinet over the basin.  
  
She found one and unwrapped it, putting the plastic waste in her pocket. She put the toothbrush in the empty holder on the wall. She frowned at it for a moment and then smiled at her reflection in the mirror.  
  
"Don't want to make this too hard for you honey. You use your privilege of rank when you get back to work."  
  
She ran the cold water for a moment and then rinsed the new brush. Then she cleaned her teeth.  
  
Sara wiped the water from her face with the small towel by the basin, and smirked again at the woman in the mirror as she put the brush back in the holder.  
  
"DNA is DNA is DNA. Happy hunting hon."  
  
She was still smiling when she left the townhouse ten minutes later carrying Grissom's things in an overnight bag.  
  
Grissom was relieved to hear that he was being moved to a regular post-operative surgical room now that he appeared to be stable.  
  
Physically at least.  
  
He had been given some medication for his headache and it had been dulled to a faint roar. He chafed at the bit to get out of the hospital altogether and get back to the townhouse for some real peace and quiet.  
  
Doctor Beckett had been back to see him and filled in a few more of the blanks about the accident that put him in hospital.  
  
He now knew that he had been driving and Sara had been his passenger. That the police had been chasing a stolen car and that both the stolen car and the police had ended up hitting the Denali. He was relieved that it had not been his carelessness that had injured Sara.  
  
Grissom figured that he had already hurt her enough.  
  
"Wow, what a shiner!"  
  
Grissom looked up over his glasses at Catherine as she stood in the doorway of his new room. He put down his paper.  
  
She had a big grin on her face as she stepped forward and came around to the side of his bed to get a closer look.  
  
"Nice to see you too."  
  
Grissom's voice was dry as he tolerated Catherine's inspection. He had seen his black eye in the mirror on the wall in the toilet. Actually both of them were black, but his left was worse than his right by far.  
  
"So, how are you doing?"  
  
"They won't let me go home."  
  
"Gee, I wonder why?"  
  
Catherine gave it the full wide-eyed innocent routine and Grissom smiled a little in spite of himself.  
  
"Can't see it myself."  
  
He sobered abruptly and looked at Catherine.  
  
"How is the Lab. doing?"  
  
Catherine waved her hand dismissively.  
  
"Sameo, sameo. It has been busy with you both off; we do need you back at work. "  
  
Grissom's head came up sharply.  
  
"Both?"  
  
Catherine was well aware of Doctor Beckett's opinion about Grissom's retrograde amnesia and the recommendation that they should not push him to remember. But she knew Grissom and he wasn't the kind of man to duck out like this. He was stubborn but he was no coward. If he had a problem he'd deal with it.  
  
It wouldn't be the first time that she had got results by brazening it out.  
  
She might even get some answers to her own questions.  
  
"Yeah, of course you won't remember that you took Sara away for ten days. She's been unwell, some personal thing she has going on."  
  
Catherine waited for the bombshell to explode. It didn't take long.  
  
"What?"  
  
Grissom's voice was quiet but deadly.  
  
Catherine affected innocence.  
  
"Yeah. You rang me at home to arrange leave for both of you - very short notice by the way - no actual explanation, but we've known for some time that Sara was under some strain from outside work, so we - "  
  
"Stop."  
  
Grissom interrupted Catherine's flow of words. His headache had blossomed anew and his stomach had flipped unpleasantly. He tried to concentrate on the available facts, sparse as they were.  
  
" 'I arranged leave' for both of us does not mean that I took Sara away."  
  
He couldn't imagine what extraordinary circumstances would bring about that event.  
  
Catherine placed one hand on a hip and the other on her chin. She looked thoughtful.  
  
"Mm, I guess we won't know unless we ask Sara. Fortunately she doesn't have amnesia."  
  
Grissom's instinctive reaction had been to say 'no' to questioning Sara, but he didn't say it aloud. He didn't know why he didn't want to ask her, but something in him knew that it unsettled him.  
  
"I'll ask her myself."  
  
His tone was abrupt and ended the discussion.  
  
Catherine had even more questions now.  
  
She decided that tact was the better part of valour for the moment, and changed the subject.  
  
"Okay. Do you need me to run by your place and get you anything?"  
  
"No. Sara is bringing in what I need later. I gave her my keys."  
  
Grissom did not like the dry amusement that appeared in Catherine's eyes.  
  
"Sara is bringing you what you need and has your keys. Okay. Good."  
  
Grissom disliked the way that the suggestive tone made him feel as if he had behaved inappropriately.  
  
" She was here, it made sense to ask her. You were at work. It isn't what you think."  
  
Catherine's smile reminded Grissom of a cat beside a mouse hole.  
  
"Gil, you have no idea what I'm thinking."  
  
Sara thanked the nurse for letting her know where Grissom's new room was and moved along the corridor looking for the room number.  
  
The door to the double room was open and she paused in the doorway before silently crossing the room to place the overnight bag beside bed.  
  
Sara was grateful that there were no other visitors. Grissom appeared to be asleep so she indulged herself and looked at him for a few moments. Like her he sported some colourful bruises, still the purple and darkest blue from yesterday. Someone had cleaned off the dried blood and he looked better than the last time that she had seen him.  
  
It wasn't the first time that she had watched him sleep. Despite the fact that he was in a hospital bed, she felt the same pull to him that she had experienced up in the cabin. She felt a wave of yearning wash over her and she stepped forward without thought, her hand raised to hover near his left hand as it rested on his chest.  
  
She didn't touch him. One touch would not be enough.  
  
Sara drew back her hand and stepped away from the bed. Her eyes were filling up as she turned to leave. She would not come back again. She couldn't do this.  
  
"Sara."  
  
Even as Sara jumped in surprise she dashed her hand across her eyes before she turned back to face Grissom. She gave him her big smile.  
  
"Hey, Grissom. Thought you were asleep. Brought your stuff."  
  
Grissom looked down at the bag and back up.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Sara shrugged.  
  
"No problem. How are you doing?"  
  
Grissom looked at her. His eyes narrowed when he noticed that her eyes were red.  
He wondered how long she had been in the room before he heard her put down the bag. The blood had gone but the butterfly strip was still in place. She was almost as bruised around the eyes as him. Her skin looked translucent with fatigue.  
  
Had she been ill before the crash? Had he really taken her away?  
  
"Better."  
  
Sara nodded as if in agreement.  
  
"Good. Great."  
  
"You?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
There was an awkward silence. Sara stood with her hands in the pockets of her pants and looked around the room as if for inspiration.  
  
Grissom couldn't stand not knowing about the two weeks a moment longer.  
  
"Sara, did we - "  
  
He was interrupted by a commotion at the door. Nick and Warrick came in carrying a book of crossword puzzles and grapes respectively.  
  
"Hey Grissom! Sara! Good to see you're okay girl. Man, Gris, you pick the darndest way of getting out of coming back to work."  
  
Warrick's timing couldn't have been worse. Grissom bit back his frustration, greeting the young man with a nod.  
  
Nick, too, questioned him good naturedly about avoiding work and Grissom managed to remain polite.  
  
Having greeted Grissom and handed over their offerings, Warrick turned back to greet Sara more fully.  
  
"So, Sara - "  
  
Grissom silently cursed.  
  
She had gone.  
  
Two weeks later.  
  
Grissom let himself in to his townhouse and shut the door behind him. The cool air-conditioning was a relief from the oppressive heat outside and he resisted the temptation to sag back against the door.  
  
This morning he had completed his final check up at the hospital and had been cleared to return to work. This last week at home had not been required in his opinion, but he had not been allowed to return to work until he was cleared. He was eager to get back to work for several reasons, not least of all was to try to get to see Sara on her own.  
  
It had been a very frustrating two weeks. Sara was clearly avoiding him and she had only been to visit him in hospital in the company of one or more of the others and rarely at that. He couldn't bring himself to ask her to stay behind in front of anyone else and he knew that she knew that.  
  
After he had come home he had asked Catherine deliver the most important of his casenotes covering the last three months to him in the hope that Sara would bring them over, but Nick had delivered them.  
  
Catherine, Warrick, Nick, Brass and even Greg had taken time out from when they should have been sleeping to visit him and tell him about things that they remembered from the last three months. They were hoping to kick-start his memory whilst filling him in on the 'social' memories.  
  
Grissom was getting frequent headaches, but he did not tell the hospital staff in case they extended his sick leave.  
  
Nothing that he had read or heard from the rest of the staff had jogged his memory. Sometimes he felt that he was on the edge of discovery, but it had remained frustratingly just out of reach.  
  
Coming home from hospital to find his suitcase open on his bed hadn't surprised him, but finding a second toothbrush out in the bathroom had.  
  
He had retrieved a plastic sample bag from his spare collection case in his closet and bagged up the toothbrush. Granted he could have put out a second one and just not remembered, but he did not usually do that, preferring instead to throw out the old one immediately. He'd get it to DNA and see what they could come up with.  
  
At least now he had an idea about who to run as a comparison.  
  
Sara opened her locker door and deposited her purse and lightweight jacket. She barely glanced at the calendar taped to the inside of the door. She was early for work as usual.  
  
Her stomach roiled with nerves as she closed the locker and slipped shut the lock.  
  
Grissom would be back at work tonight.  
  
Part of her was pleased beyond measure and part of her was terrified. She was still hoping for a miracle, for one of them to find the key that would unlock his memories and put their lives back on track.  
  
The terrified part of her was convinced that her Gil was never coming back.  
  
She felt as if she were riding one of Grissom's favourite roller coasters.  
  
At least her stomach was at any rate.  
  
Sara had tried to keep busy since the accident, not allowing herself too much time to think about what had happened. She was also guilty of avoiding Grissom. She was worried that she was going to jeopardise his recovery by blurting out the whole truth about the three months prior to the car accident. She had read all that she could about cases similar to Grissom's, and although she was certain that no harm would come to him, she didn't want to take the chance that she was wrong.  
  
Impasse.  
  
"Evening Sara."  
  
Sara had been so lost in thought that she hadn't heard Warrick come into the locker area.  
  
"Hi. You're early this evening."  
  
Warrick looked amused.  
  
"I could say the same but there would be no point. Nick and I came in early to lay on a few things to welcome Gris back."  
  
He lifted the bag and wiggled it slightly.  
  
Sara smirked.  
  
"You know he hates 'cake in the break room'. So please tell me his treat involves a special blend of his favourite coffee."  
  
Warrick laughed suggestively, teasing Sara as they both walked to the doorway of the locker area.  
  
"Now honey, you know I'd tell you anything that you want to know."  
  
"Really?"  
  
Grissom's voice was like a shock of cold water over the two of them.  
  
Both Sara and Warrick stopped dead, Sara in shock and Warrick in surprise. Warrick recovered first.  
  
"Hey, Grissom. Good to have you back man."  
  
Warrick held out his hand to shake with Grissom. After a moment that Warrick pretended he hadn't noticed, Grissom returned the handshake.  
  
"Good to be back."  
  
He looked at Sara and nodded coolly.  
  
"Sara."  
  
She nodded back, her smile pasted on.  
  
"Grissom."  
  
Warrick looked at the two of them squared off to each other and wondered at the tension he could feel. He had the distinct impression that Grissom was angry at finding them laughing together.  
  
He made his escape as soon as he could, leaving Sara alone with Grissom.  
  
He was not going to get in the middle of that can of worms.  
  
Having seen off Warrick, Grissom turned back to Sara.  
  
Seconds passed in silence without either of them appearing to notice.  
  
Sara searched for signs that it was Gil looking at her.  
  
Grissom noticed that Sara appeared fully recovered from the accident. His anger faded in the face of the way she was looking at him. It reminded him of when she had wiped chalk dust off his face. Tender but trying to be neutral. A sliver of memory wriggled in the distance and made him frown in annoyance when it faded out altogether. Something about chalk dust resonated in him.  
  
Sara saw the frown and misinterpreted its reason. She had done something wrong but had no clue what. She nervously fingered her necklace as she backed off and looked around the corridor rather than at Grissom.  
  
"I'll...go join the others. See you later."  
  
She went with alacrity and didn't look back.  
  
If she had she would have seen Grissom stare after her with some speculation.  
  
Grissom returned to his office. He had been in work for a couple of hours, and had already visited the DNA lab. He had set the 'unknown' sample from the toothbrush running, and Greg knew well enough not to interfere if he saw that Grissom had something 'cooking'.  
  
Shoving a pile of casenotes and files to one side, Grissom placed his briefcase on his desk and opened it. He pulled out his diary from home, then replaced his bag on the floor. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of his diary before. Something might help in there if he went back far enough.  
  
He checked his watch. He still had half an hour before handing out the assignments.  
  
Only ten minutes later Grissom found an entry dated within the last three months.  
  
' Sara has asked for my help. It is extraordinary, and I can't believe that I've agreed. I do not know what possessed me, I only know that she when she said that she understood why I would say no, I was stunned by her courage.'  
  
Grissom re read the entry several times and he still couldn't figure it out.  
  
What help did Sara want? Why would he have said no?  
  
Another slightly earlier entry alarmed him.  
  
' Still shocked by Sara's news. Only a year left. She has a difficult choice to make. Does she accept treatment or does she let go gracefully? I don't know what I would do in her position, but she's a fighter. I hope she fights.'  
  
Grissom was glad that he was sitting down.  
  
Sara was terminally ill.  
  
No wonder that he had wanted to forget.  
  
It was several minutes before Grissom could pick up the diary and continue to read. There were further entries, which appeared to be in some sort of code.  
  
' S. 15:00hrs.to discuss help.'  
  
And more recently, within the last two months, a regular entry of just the letter 'S' every three or four days.  
  
Grissom found no more clues, and no entries more recent than a month ago.  
  
'S' was probably represented Sara, but what was going on every three or four days? Was she having chemotherapy or radiotherapy or...or...what?  
  
He forced himself to stop leaping to conclusions, even if it seemed clear cut. He applied his rules of evidence and decided that it was about time that he spoke to Sara.  
  
As her Supervisor.  
  
He waited a moment in his chair then realised that having discovered what he thought was the trigger for his memory loss, he was now waiting for the rush of memories that the truth should have revealed.  
  
At least, that was how it happened in the movies.  
  
Grissom remained depressingly memory free. He repeated the words 'chalk dust' to himself several times as a test and still felt the resonance that he had before. He would have to look for other things that resonated.  
  
He got up out of his chair, left his office and walked towards the break room.  
  
Half way there he was intercepted by Catherine who insisted that he come and look at some piece of evidence that even Greg could have sorted without supervision.  
  
Despite his divergent thoughts, the penny dropped for Grissom while he was looking through the microscope.  
  
He peered up at Catherine.  
  
"You've been sent to distract me."  
  
Catherine smirked.  
  
"Yeah, well, they don't know you like I do, O curmudgeonly one. I told them you don't do the hi's, goodbye's and welcome back's but you know them."  
  
"I thought I did."  
  
Catherine was taken aback by Grissom's serious tone but didn't get chance to question it before he got up from the microscope and exited the lab, leaving Catherine standing there with her mouth open.  
  
Grissom returned to his office and pulled out his cell on the way.  
  
"Sara? My office now."  
  
His voice was brusque and he had returned the cell to his pants pocket without waiting for a reply.  
  
In the break room Sara was left standing holding her cell phone and feeling silly. Her stomach dipped again. This was one meeting that she couldn't avoid.  
  
She made her apologies to Warrick and Nick, and left the room.  
  
Grissom looked up as he heard a knock on the already open door of his office.  
  
He made an effort not to stare at Sara to see if he could see any sign of her illness.  
  
"Come in, and shut the door." He added ' Please ' as an afterthought.  
  
Sara felt a moment of déjà vu as she entered the office and shut the door behind her. She crossed the office and took the seat in front of the desk.  
  
Grissom didn't beat about the bush.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Tell you what?"  
  
Sara's tone was wary. Grissom didn't look like a man who had suddenly remembered that he loved her.  
  
"That you were ill."  
  
He gestured to the book in front of him, and Sara could see that it looked like a diary.  
  
Dear God, had he written it all down?  
  
She went white and felt faint. He didn't remember, but he had all the information. What must it look like to him?  
  
Grissom was alarmed at her lack of colour.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
He was half out of his seat, but Sara waved him back. If he touched her it would all come pouring out and she couldn't risk it.  
  
"Yeah, it was just a bit of a shock. I had no idea that you kept a diary, you never mentioned it when - "  
  
Sara broke off.  
  
"When...?" Grissom prompted.  
  
Sara shook her head. He hadn't mentioned it up at the cabin.  
  
"Doesn't matter. Does any of it jog your memory?"  
  
"My memory? Christ Sara, I would have thought that your illness was more important than my memory. It explains - "  
  
It was Grissom's turn to break off. He was about to admit that it would have explained why he wanted to forget - that the woman he cared for was terminally ill.  
  
Sara didn't ask what 'it' explained.  
  
"It's not an illness, it's a fact of life. It happens to thousands of woman every day, it just happened to me a little earlier than most. I just had to live with it."  
  
Grissom frowned in puzzlement. Something she had to live with?  
  
"I don't understand. Do you mean that you are responding to treatment?"  
  
Sara laughed with genuine enjoyment for the first time in ages. Her eyes shone and she gestured with her hand towards the diary.  
  
"You could call it that I guess. You're the one keeping a diary."  
  
If he already knew about her premature menopause, there was no danger in filling in some of the blanks for him. It obviously hadn't caused a brain fizz for him.  
  
" Three months ago I was told during a routine check up that I was perimenopausal and that if I wanted to have a child, it would have to be within a year. I discussed with you the pros and cons of artificial insemination. You were very helpful.  
  
Grissom was beginning to realise that something was seriously crossed in the 'wire' department. He opened the diary and re read the entries with this new information.  
  
"So you're not terminally ill?"  
  
Sara's jaw fell open in shock.  
  
"What? No! Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?"  
  
Grissom looked a bizarre mixture of sheepish and relieved.  
  
Sara's suspicions were aroused and she stood up to reach for the diary.  
  
"What exactly did you write in there?"  
  
Grissom pulled the book away from her grasp. He didn't want her to see his thoughts and feelings about her.  
  
"Very little. Which I have obviously misinterpreted. I apologise."  
  
His voice was tight. Not unusual in these circumstances, Grissom's embarrassment and relief were translating into anger at the unnecessary fright that he had given himself.  
  
Sara responded immediately to his changed tone. It wasn't her fault that he had scared himself. The stress and worry caused by the state of his health and the progress of her own made her temper a little short too. She stood up to leave.  
  
"Yeah, well, next time don't be so frigging cryptic. Save us all the hassle."  
  
It would have been a splendid exit line as she headed for the door except Grissom's voice halted her halfway across the room.  
  
"So what exactly did you mean by 'you could call it that I guess' when I asked about responding to treatment?"  
  
Sara stopped dead in her tracks, her back to Grissom.  
  
Oh crap.  
  
She turned back to face him and their eyes met.  
  
Sara had pictured this moment in a very different setting and she could have wept for that lost dream.  
  
She sighed, and tried to keep the wobble out of her voice.  
  
"It means that I'm pregnant."  
.  
TBC 


	3. Last Chance 11

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, and unfortunately, no one I know owns it either.  
  
Title: Last Chance, chapter 11  
  
Author: hazeleyes57  
  
Rating: PG  
  
A/N: Many thanks to those of you who have reviewed or emailed or both. Totally appreciated.  
  
Last Chance Chapter 11  
  
"It means that I'm pregnant."  
  
The words seemed unnaturally loud as they echoed and bounced around the office.  
Sara searched Grissom's face to see if there was any glimmer of a sign that her Gil was listening. Judging by his visible shock and deathly silence, she thought not. Sara had taken a little while to take in the news herself that he had only just heard, so she gave him time to absorb it.  
  
She too had been a little shocked when she found out for certain that she was pregnant. The day before Grissom had been discharged from hospital Sara had realised that she was a few days late but put the information to the back of her mind, more worried about Grissom than herself at the time. She had almost convinced herself that it was just delayed shock from the accident that was throwing things 'off'.  
  
That had been a week ago. Two days ago she had gone out and bought a home pregnancy test kit. She knew that she could easily have run the test at work, but she hadn't wanted to take a chance on being caught.  
  
At home she would have the opportunity to panic in peace.  
  
Although Sara had been fairly certain what the test would show, she had still been surprised when it had turned out positive. She ran through the gamut of emotions from elation that the test was positive, through fear - the 'crap what have I done' moment, to profound sadness that Gil wasn't there to share in her discovery.  
  
As Sara waited, part of her was praying that this might be the trigger that restored Grissom's lost memories of their new relationship. She absently fiddled with her necklace until she became aware of what she was doing. As each second passed her hope faded. She wondered what was going through his mind.  
  
Grissom was stunned. There was no other word for it. His first night back at work - which technically had not yet even started - and he was completely lost for words.  
  
He remembered to breathe after the longest moment. He felt crushing disappointment that Sara had taken this route. Artificial insemination. Christ, what a mess.  
  
Sara had said that they had discussed it and that he had been 'very helpful'. Obviously not helpful enough, or she wouldn't be standing here now, telling him that she was pregnant.  
  
Grissom's gaze involuntarily moved to Sara's waist. She folded her arms at almost the same moment and her expression became defensive. He looked unseeingly down at his desk in an effort to pull himself together.  
  
He had been silent too long, but he didn't know what to say. He had never been the kind of person to automatically say 'congratulations' when given this sort of news by anyone, let alone it coming from Sara.  
  
He managed to bite back the impulse to shout 'are you insane?' When he had control over himself again he managed to sound almost normal.  
  
"Is it what you want?"  
  
Sara wanted to run over to the desk and shake him until he rattled. She wanted to scream 'yes, you idiot, we did this deliberately'.  
  
But she just nodded, not yet trusting herself to speak.  
  
Grissom had several questions, but he thought that most were of a personal nature and he had no right to ask them. He looked up at Sara's face and thought how beautiful and fragile that she looked. He was bemused by the wave of protectiveness that swept through him. Then he felt angry at feeling that way. What Sara did in her private life was her business, it was nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.  
  
So why did he feel so irritated?  
  
"Are you okay? I mean, do you feel well enough to work?"  
  
Unfortunately Grissom could not entirely keep his irritation out of his voice, so it sounded to Sara as if he were cross that she might not be able to do her job. It made her response a little terse.  
  
"Yes. I feel perfectly all right. I have no symptoms yet, and if it weren't for the test I wouldn't have known. It's still early days."  
  
Grissom nodded, not knowing what else to say.  
  
Sara continued in a monotone.  
  
"In light of the fact that one in six pregnancies are lost even before the women find out that they're pregnant, I would appreciate it if this was just kept between the two of us for now."  
  
Grissom could understand that.  
  
"If that's what you want. Have you seen a doctor yet?"  
  
Sara half smiled reminiscently and Grissom wondered at it.  
  
"Yeah, you told me what questions to ask. But I haven't seen the doctor since the test was positive. She doesn't book people in until after eight weeks, in case the baby is lost. They don't call it miscarriage so much these days. Spontaneous abortion is the term now."  
  
Sara's tone was very matter of fact, but Grissom could hear the emotion beyond it.  
  
Fear.  
  
It dispelled the last of his illogical anger. He didn't smile, but his features softened.  
  
"I'm sure you'll be okay. Try not to worry."  
  
"Second nature to me now."  
  
Sara had spoken without thinking, but with the truth. She had been so worried about Grissom that it now coloured many aspects of her life.  
  
"That's natural, but you should also try to relax."  
  
Sara's gaze flew to Grissom's. It wasn't the first time that he had told her to relax and she supposed that she would have to get used to these moments of familiarity where she would remember and he would not. She felt unexpectedly emotional.  
  
Grissom had seen the hope flare in Sara's eyes and knew that he had touched another nerve. He felt the familiar frustration that said that his answers were just out of reach and if he could just ask the right questions, something would 'click' and he would be whole again.  
  
The words 'whole again' gave him that bloom of resonance that he had previously felt with 'chalk dust'.  
  
Grissom had opened his mouth to speak to Sara - this was too good an opportunity to miss - when he was interrupted by a brisk knock on his office door. As the door opened immediately with the knock, he never had the chance to tell whoever it was to 'go away'.  
  
Catherine stuck her head around the door and looked a little startled to see Sara standing in Grissom's office. Her eyes moved from her to Grissom, taking in the atmosphere and their postures in a split second.  
  
"Oh, sorry Gil. The rest of us are waiting in the break room. Didn't realise you were busy."  
  
Catherine didn't let it stop her from entering the office.  
  
Sara looked at the older woman with barely concealed irritation. Grissom had been about to say something and now the moment was lost.  
  
Grissom looked at Sara in frustrated annoyance. He couldn't ask his questions with the other woman present. Sara probably looked as peeved as he did.  
  
Sara smoothed out her expression as she turned and started to leave the office.  
  
" We weren't busy." She said to Catherine, then looked back to Grissom and added,  
  
"If there is anything else, I'll be in the break room."  
  
Sara nodded to Catherine on her way out.  
  
Catherine watched her go, then looked back to Grissom.  
  
"Did I interrupt something...?"  
  
"No."  
  
Catherine raised her eyebrows in surprise at Grissom's abrupt tone. She watched him write something in the back of a notebook and then fixed him with a stare as he got to his feet.  
  
"Y'know, Gill, you're as bad a liar as she is."  
  
Grissom entered the DNA lab. and glanced around casually to see if anyone else was working in the room. To his mild annoyance Greg was working at the bench, but the young man was concentrating hard on a sample application and barely spared Grissom a glance.  
  
With perfect timing the printer in front of Grissom coughed up two report sheets. He removed the reports and cleared the analyser for use, deleting his worklist. He didn't look at the reports until he was back in the privacy of his office.  
  
Grissom frowned as he looked at the two printouts. One was the 'unknown' DNA from the toothbrush in his bathroom, the other was a fresh sample of his own DNA for comparison purposes. He had listed his sample as 'second unknown' rather than use the stock elimination samples that the lab had on file to exclude the criminalists from evidence collected at a crime scene. He didn't want any official named records of the work to be logged on to the departmental mainframe.  
  
As he had suspected the DNA on the toothbrush was not his. Not unless he had changed sex recently and not noticed. XX for female, XY for male. He unlocked his left-hand desk drawer and pulled out a copy of another DNA elimination sample. This copy he compared to the first 'unknown' sample.  
  
The two were a perfect match.  
  
It was one thing to suspect something, it was quite another to have your suspicions confirmed in a manner that left no room for doubt.  
  
The DNA had come from Sara.  
  
Warrick looked up and grinned as Nick entered the break room. The Texan's big smile was notably absent.  
  
Nick looked at Warrick's expression and held up one hand.  
  
"Just do not say anything. You were right. I do not wish to get into it."  
  
Warrick tried to reign in his grin but failed miserably.  
  
"Aw, c'mon man, where's your sense of humour?"  
  
Nick opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of cold water. He drank it down in one long chug. When he had finished he lobbed the empty bottle into the recycling bin.  
  
"It would be funny if it were happening to Greggo. Not to me."  
  
Warrick still smiled.  
  
"Ah, but Greg wasn't the one that Grissom overheard commenting that Sara looked very much better since her 'holiday with Grissom'."  
  
Nick stretched his back and grimaced when it hurt. He was hot and filthy. He would enjoy a long soak in the tub when he finished this shift.  
  
" I don't know why he took it so bad. I didn't mean anything by it!"  
  
Warrick shook his head. Nick just didn't get it.  
  
"Of course not. However, it was open to interpretation and you got interpreted by Gris. Unfavourably. Besides, that store needed cleaning and reorganising, you're doing a great job. We're all grateful."  
  
"Yeah! Grateful that you're not the ones doing it."  
  
Warrick smiled disarmingly.  
  
"True."  
He had warned Nick to keep a low profile about the 'break' that Grissom had taken prior to his accident. From one or two things that Catherine had said Warrick had realised that the official stance was that Grissom had taken leave 'at the same time' and not 'with Sara'. Personally he thought that it was none of their business what the two of them did or didn't do together, providing that it didn't impact on their work environment. It was obvious to him that Grissom was finding it frustrating not to remember what had happened to him. Since the accident he had been less patient than before.  
  
And something was definitely different about Sara.  
  
Some nights she came into work with a spring in her step and her usual zest for the work. Some nights she came in and was very quiet, just put her head down and got on with 'it'. In the two weeks that Grissom had been back at work Sara had been a little remote, as if she occasionally retreated inside herself. Sometimes he caught her with a smile very reminiscent of the Mona Lisa painting.  
  
Once he had even found her asleep.  
  
They had been working together on a case and were awaiting confirmation from Greg about the DNA present at the crime scene. Warrick had gone to find Sara with the results and found her in the break room with her head on her folded arms on the table used for assignment distribution. He had called her name before he realised that she was not awake, and then felt bad for waking her. Sara had laughed it off as the effects of a busy day off the day before.  
  
Nick grunted as he stretched to release the tension in his shoulders.  
  
"So, what you doing today, War?"  
  
Warrick folded the newspaper that he had been reading and shaded his eyes as he looked up at Nick.  
  
"Well, that depends on a lady."  
  
Nick grinned.  
  
"Don't it always? Who is it this time? That redhead that keeps staring at you from upstairs, what's her name? Laurel? "  
  
"Laura. And no, not interested. Especially having seen Mr. Laura. You know I don't knowingly graze in someone else's field."  
  
Nick shrugged.  
  
"Still leaves you a lot of scope, plenty more fish in the sea."  
  
Warrick looked at his watch and stood up to go. The shift had just ended, and for once it hadn't overrun.  
  
"Maybe, maybe not. The mysterious miss would still have to fit in around her work, my work and Vegas. Not an easy combination."  
  
"Nuthin' to it. Find an insomniac."  
  
Warrick grinned as he made an exaggerated detour around the aromatic Nick.  
  
"Obviously where I'm going wrong. See you."  
  
Nick waved him off, then pulled a face when he caught a whiff of himself.  
  
"Man, that is bad."  
  
Grissom opened his briefcase and checked that it contained his diary and the DNA report. He then locked the case, picked it up, had a brief look around his office out of habit, and then headed for the door.  
  
Grissom had a lot to think about despite his bone weariness at another long night. He still had not shrugged off all the physical effects of the accident even if the bruises had faded to pale yellow smudges.  
  
Hovering in the back of his mind all night had been the information that it was Sara's DNA on the mystery toothbrush.  
  
While visiting colleagues might eat with you, or use the bathroom, they didn't normally avail themselves of a toothbrush.  
  
Which implied that Sara hadn't been in the townhouse just as a colleague.  
  
More or less on automatic pilot, Grissom made his way up the corridor on his way out of the building. The day shift was taking over but he hardly noticed except for the extra bodies in the locker room.  
  
Just as he reached his Denali his cell phone rang.  
  
"Grissom."  
  
Catherine's voice sounded harassed.  
  
"Gil, sorry, I meant to tell you this at work but I forgot until just now. I don't know if it's at all relevant, but I think you were seeing someone within the last three months. I only just remembered. I came around to your place because I unexpectedly had some free time and you were very cagey. You were in such a hurry to go out that you left in your slippers. I told you 'good luck' with whoever it was and warned you not to let Sara find out about this one, this time."  
  
" 'This time'?"  
  
"Yeah, she didn't take the Lady Heather incident very well."  
  
Grissom bit back the urge to tell Catherine that 'the incident' was no one's business but his, and allowed himself to think about what Catherine had said about him seeing someone. He thought it unlikely.  
  
"Okay, thanks."  
  
Grissom heard Lindsay's voice in the background but couldn't make out what she was saying.  
  
"Gotta go, Gil. See you tonight."  
  
Catherine cut off the connection.  
  
Grissom got in the Denali and drove out of the car lot.  
  
He felt nothing new after Catherine's information. There was no reference to someone new in his life in his diary, and while he wasn't an assiduous diarist, he figured that he would have at least made a note about it. He did think that it would be very out of character for him to be 'seeing' a woman while Sara was leaving DNA at his place.  
  
Unless the 'other' woman had been Sara.  
  
It was a tremendous leap without much in the way of facts to back it up and it shocked Grissom so thoroughly that he was surprised to find himself parked in his space at his townhouse with no clear memory of how he had got there.  
  
Once inside the house Grissom had a quick shower and then checked for messages on his ansaphone. He prepared an omelette for breakfast and put on some coffee. He wasn't as weary as he was earlier and knew that he couldn't sleep with so much on his mind. Everything seemed more jumbled than he was used to and he felt that if he could just restore the order, everything - that he could remember - would become much clearer.  
  
After he had finished eating he took a second mug of coffee with him back to the dining table, where he opened up his laptop.  
  
Although the Doctor in the hospital had talked to him about the amnesia, Grissom decided even before he had left the hospital that he would do some further research on the Internet the first chance that he could get. He started to type.  
  
A couple of hours later, his coffee cold and untouched, Grissom had a better understanding of his condition.  
  
But no answers that would magically restore his memory. He was, however, more optimistic that he would recover his memory. In most cases amnesia was a temporary condition and usually brief, varying from a few seconds to a few hours. Duration could be longer depending on the severity of the causal trauma, and could last as long as a few weeks or even months.  
  
According to one of the articles he had found, his older memories should return first and the more recent memories last, until all of his memory was recovered.  
  
Grissom frowned as he read through the different types of amnesia. To his less practised mind, he would have thought his symptoms matched 'emotional' amnesia rather than retrograde. He refused to use the term 'hysterical' amnesia. It wouldn't be the first time a rushed doctor had not quite hit the nail on the head.  
  
Grissom smiled ironically. Not the best analogy that he could have used.  
  
He sighed heavily. The only thing that he could do now was wait.  
  
Having satisfied his curiosity and drawn a line under the subject for the moment, Grissom turned his thoughts back to Sara. As usual it had required little effort.  
  
What on Earth had possessed her?  
  
Sara was - in his opinion - throwing away a good career with this latest stunt. Couldn't she see how hard it was for Catherine being a single parent? Her daughter was at school now, but that just created a different set of demands on her time.  
  
He had nothing against single parenthood per se, it happened for one reason or another; from divorce or a death in the family right down to the other end of the scale with simple carelessness. But to go and do it deliberately...?  
  
Imagine trying to look after a baby and sleep during the day in order to be up all night at work.  
  
Grissom shook his head as he got up from the table and took his mug to the sink to rinse it. Memory loss or not, he was sure that he must have made some effort to talk Sara out of this plan of hers.  
  
And had obviously failed miserably.  
  
He went to his bedroom and put on the bedside light, then closed the blinds and drapes to leave the room darkened sufficiently for sleep once the light was off.  
  
Grissom had emptied his pockets on to the side table earlier before his shower. Now, as he sat down on the edge of his bed, he looked at his keys and thought of Sara coming to his house while he was in hospital.  
  
He suddenly thought of the Christmas photos. Had he left the drawer unlocked?  
  
He checked the drawer and relaxed. It was locked and Sara wouldn't have known where to look for the key. He removed his bathrobe, got into bed and pulled the covers up to his waist. He turned off the light.  
  
Grissom shut his eyes and tried to relax. Turned over. Turned back.  
  
Dammit!  
  
He opened his eyes and reached over to turn on the light. He snatched up the keys and opened the drawer.  
  
There, see? The pictures were still there, they -  
  
Grissom's thought broke off as he noticed the computer disk partially covered by the prints.  
  
He picked it up and looked at it in puzzlement. He did not recall putting the disk in the drawer. It wasn't labelled, which was unlike him.  
  
He turned it over thoughtfully in his hand. A clue to the past perhaps?  
  
Now he would never sleep until he had checked this out. He got out of bed and grabbed his robe, belting it as he reached the dining table and his laptop.  
  
Grissom tapped his fingers impatiently as he waited for the computer to boot up.  
  
As soon as it was ready he loaded the disk and opened it up.  
  
Or tried to. The file was password protected.  
  
Crap.  
  
How the hell was he supposed to access a file with no memory of a password?  
  
Without any real expectation of useful help he clicked on the password prompt key.  
  
It came up with the word 'lazy'.  
  
Lazy.  
  
The first word that popped into his head was 'idle'.  
  
Idle. Sidle. Sara.  
  
Grissom typed in 'Sidle'.  
  
No, that wasn't it.  
  
'Sara' would be too easy. Anyone would try that first.  
  
He tried 'idle' and that too was rejected.  
  
He liked crossword puzzles. Perhaps an anagram.  
  
Grissom typed in 'idles' and grinned when the file opened up.  
  
He read the opening title of the first article and the smile fell off his face.  
  
What the f...?!  
  
Sara brought her bare feet up on to the sofa and tucked them under the edge of her bathrobe. She was tired but edgy and couldn't settle enough to try to sleep. She had just tried the warm bath, and now she was going down the milk and cookie route.  
  
She was also trying to be good, so there was only one cookie.  
  
The fact that it was bigger again by half than her palm was no ones business but hers.  
  
Sara smiled as she broke off a piece of the chocolate chip and put it in her mouth.  
  
Medicinal chocolate. Her favourite kind.  
  
She chewed slowly as she smoothed out a piece of notepaper. The paper was not frayed or torn, but it had obviously been read and re-read several times and now folded easily along its crease lines. It was the note that Grissom had left during their first attempt at AI.  
  
'Hemingway had someone like you in mind when asked the definition of 'guts'. He replied,  
  
Grace under pressure.  
  
G.'  
  
Sara folded the note carefully and slipped it into the back of the book that she was trying half-heartedly to read.  
  
She sighed heavily and picked up her glass of milk. The 'pressure' bit she had down pat, it was the 'grace' bit that was proving troublesome. She just wanted to walk straight into Grissom's office and tell him everything. It was so frustrating to go to work each night and be so close to Grissom but so far away.  
  
Sara disliked not having a definite plan to follow; she hated things up in the air. She was a 'doing' person, not a patient one. She wanted to be actively working on restoring Grissom's memory, not just hanging around on the off chance that it would come back.  
  
She really wished that she had someone to talk to. The only person that she had ever opened up to had been Grissom and most of that had been in the last month. Now that she had finally got the taste for conversation she missed it more acutely.  
  
Her mood swings were irritating her. One minute she was up and optimistic, the next she was down and weepy, then angry about the moods and her reactions to them. If this was what it was like at less than six weeks, heaven help her later on in the pregnancy.  
  
She put the now empty milk glass on the phone table beside the armrest, then pulled the throw off the back of the sofa and spread it over her.  
  
Sara's eyelids drooped and she put the book on the floor beside her sofa. Thank goodness - she was beginning to bore herself to sleep. She really ought to go to her bed, she'd just have a few minutes here before...  
  
Sara slept at last.  
  
Grissom scowled as he skipped through the information on the screen in front of him. It was a very thorough 'how to' guide for artificial insemination.  
  
This must be what he meant in his diary about Sara asking for his help. Or he had collected the information himself in an effort to convince Sara not to go ahead with her plan.  
  
Grissom removed the disk, shut down the laptop and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his face with both hands and realised that he had another headache starting. He went to the bathroom and looked for some painkillers to try to offset the full headache. He swallowed a couple of the tablets with some water and returned to his bedroom.  
  
He felt the same frustration he had earlier. He thought that he had all the information he needed, but he couldn't seem to organise it in his head, he couldn't concentrate. Something was hovering on the edge of his perception but it wouldn't come into full view.  
  
Grissom returned the disk to the drawer with the photos and locked it again. He threw his robe on to the end of his bed, got back into bed and turned off the light.  
  
He promised himself that if he were still awake in half an hour, he'd resort to a quick DIY session to help him sleep.  
  
As Grissom settled into the cool pillow and closed his eyes, he had a bizarre thought.  
  
He fancied a doughnut.  
  
"...and lastly, Warrick and Greg, you have a decomp. in an apartment block. Neighbour has been complaining for 'ages' about the smell to the landlord and he finally found out why they hadn't seen the guy in 3B for weeks. Doesn't look like suspicious circ's, but keep an open mind."  
  
Grissom handed out the last of the assignment slips to Warrick and pretended for the moment that he couldn't feel the laser hot glare that he was getting from Sara's end of the briefing table.  
  
"Any questions? No? Okay."  
  
Everyone got up from the table and scattered to their tasks except Sara. Greg risked a quick glance at her on his way out of them room and didn't envy Grissom right at this moment.  
  
Boy was Sara pissed.  
  
She stood up and opened her mouth as soon as the others had left.  
  
Grissom held up one hand.  
  
" Not here."  
  
Sara's mouth closed with a snap and she followed Grissom back to his office.  
  
Grissom did not take refuge behind his desk but turned to face Sara head on.  
  
"Okay. You're angry that I put you on the jewellery robbery instead of the decomp."  
  
"Yes! You know that I - "  
  
Grissom interrupted firmly, knowing exactly what she was going to say.  
  
"Sara, I was not asking for your input, I was handing out assignments. I did as I saw fit and will continue to do so. Greg hasn't had a decomp. yet and this will be good experience for him. Catherine is on the murdered traffic cop with Nick because as she often likes to point out, she has seniority."  
  
Grissom's voice softened slightly, but he was still the Supervisor.  
  
"I put you on the robbery because you have sharp instincts for a lie and I had the impression from Brass that this isn't a straightforward job. The fact that it will be easier on your stomach was also a consideration, but it was a secondary one."  
  
Sara visibly calmed, but she still had some fight left.  
  
"Then you're not sidelining me because of my condition?"  
  
"No. Just being aware of it. But my decision wouldn't have been any different if you weren't pregnant."  
  
"Oh." Sara looked at him as he leaned back on his desk.  
  
"So what will you be doing?"  
  
The twinkle in Grissom's eyes reminded her of Gil.  
  
"Thought I'd come with you."  
  
Sara's first and instant naughty thought was that it wouldn't be the first time. She clamped her lips together to prevent the words slipping out, but she couldn't hide the smirk.  
  
She forgave him.  
  
"Cool."  
  
The encounter set the tone on the next few weeks at work. For both of them it was a poignant journey into the past to a happier time before the 'this' that Grissom did not know what to do about. Although deeply affected by Gil's continued absence, Sara took some comfort from the return of the slightly flirty solicitous Grissom.  
  
Some nights it was the sweetest torture.  
  
If any of the rest of the graveyard shift noticed they did not comment overtly. All of them had Nick's storeroom experience fresh in their minds.  
  
As the nights passed and the work progressed in its usual fashion, Grissom became more restive about his amnesia. He still had the nagging feeling that he was missing some big clue that would tie everything up in a neat bow and this was reinforced by his certainty that Sara was hiding something from him.  
  
So when Grissom found himself on a night off, he decided to sit down and tackle the problem as if it were a difficult case.  
  
He took a block of writing paper to the dining room table and spent several minutes assembling his thoughts. He started to write.  
  
It didn't take long and shortly Grissom put down his pen and took a sip of his cooling coffee. As he read through the list he tried to detach the 'evidence' from any personal connection to either himself or Sara, so that he could see it just as a 'case' for conclusion.  
  
Female DNA present in house.  
  
From diary: One year left for female to conceive. Request / offer of 'help'. 'S' at three and four day intervals.  
  
Possibility of holiday 'together?  
Female pregnant.  
Grissom frowned as he read through the list. Although he was thorough and methodical and went by the book - most of the time - his experience had often shown him that his first instinctive 'gut' response often turned out to be right. He was a great believer in the principal behind Occam's razor; namely, that the simplest explanation is often the right one.  
  
Having said that, Paige Ryecroft had given him a healthy respect for the Chaos Theory as well.  
  
Either way he would try to stick to facts and what he could prove.  
  
But as he listened to his gut now he wondered if this time he could be wrong, because if he didn't know better, he'd swear that...  
  
No.  
  
Grissom's stomach dipped and flipped in a way that no roller coaster had ever managed to create.  
  
She couldn't have.  
  
HE wouldn't have.  
  
Surely not...?  
  
Grissom ran a shaking hand over his beard in a nervous smoothing gesture.  
  
After several seconds of frozen speculation, he went to his briefcase and took out his diary and day planner.  
He looked at the 'S' flagged dates. He checked them all against his work calendar and they had at least one thing in common.  
  
Not one of them was on a day that he or Sara was scheduled to appear in court.  
  
'Sara has asked for my help...I can't believe that I've agreed.'  
  
The sentence he had written in his diary suddenly took on a whole new meaning.  
  
Dear God.  
  
Had he supplied Sara with what she had needed for AI?  
  
If that were so, then he was the father of Sara's baby.  
  
What the hell had he done?  
  
Catherine jumped in surprise as the door to the ladies washroom swung open just as she was reaching for the handle.  
  
She was even more surprised when someone who closely resembled Grissom came storming - that was the only word for it - in.  
  
It couldn't actually be Grissom, of course, because he would not storm into the ladies looking dishevelled and impossibly sexy in a pair of faded blue jeans and a midnight blue T.  
  
Especially not on his day off.  
  
"Gil? What -?"  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
Even as bit out his question Grissom noted that all but one of the stall doors was open.  
  
He crossed the floor rapidly and banged on the one closed stall door.  
  
"I know you're in there, come on out Sara!"  
  
Grissom looked briefly back at Catherine.  
  
"Leave."  
  
It did not occur to Catherine to disobey. She was half way to the door of the room before she had even rationalised her decision. She had known Gil Grissom a long time and she had never seen him quite like this. Not even when he had hauled Eddie off her out in the corridor had he been this steamed.  
  
The last thing Catherine saw as the door closed was Grissom checking that the other stalls were empty.  
  
Sara flushed the toilet and arranged her clothing. Her heart was in her mouth at the tone in Grissom's voice.  
  
"Sara!"  
  
There was another bang on the cubicle door and Sara took in a deep breath to help her relax.  
  
It didn't work.  
  
She opened the door anyway and stepped out into the glare from a pair of wonderfully blue eyes.  
  
"What can I do for you Grissom?"  
  
Grissom felt an entirely unwarranted anger at her apparent calmness as she crossed the room to wash her hands. He wanted to rattle her as he had been rattled himself.  
  
"Just to be clear, I don't give a crap what the doctor said about my memory. I want a straight answer from you; yes or no - none of the run-around that you've been giving me lately."  
  
Sara nodded warily as she dried her hands.  
  
"Okay."  
  
There was a long silence.  
  
When Grissom finally did speak his voice seemed to echo off the walls.  
  
"You asked for my help. I apparently agreed." Grissom paused, suddenly assailed by doubt that he had made another wrong conclusion.  
  
"Am I the baby's father?"  
  
As if in slow motion he watched the surprise appear briefly in Sara's face, along with her quickly quashed burst of hope. He saw one of her hands unconsciously fiddle with the gold necklace tucked into her shirt.  
  
Time snapped back to the right speed as Sara simply said,  
  
"Yes."  
.  
TBC 


	4. Last Chance 12

Disclaimer: C.S.I. is a trademarked product. Am borrowing for non-profit making fun.  
  
Author: Hazeleyes57  
  
Title: Last Chance (chapter 12)  
  
Summary: Suprise!  
  
Rating: PG for this chapter  
  
Last Chance  
  
"Yes."  
  
Sara's simple answer floored Grissom.  
  
Although he had demanded a straight answer he had not expected to get one. He thought that there would be more prevarication and avoidance.  
  
Sara just stood in front of Grissom, calmly waiting for his next move.  
  
Her calmness was an illusion. She felt anything but calm, it was more the resigned acceptance of her fate, whatever it was likely to be.  
  
Grissom was still struggling to take in the suddenly very real fact that he was the genetic donor of Sara Sidle's baby. Its father. He had figured it out intellectually, now he had to accept it emotionally.  
  
He didn't know what to say. His head was full of questions, all clamouring to get out. Why had she done this? Why had HE done this?  
  
One of the questions finally made it to the outside world.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me? You've known for weeks about it. Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
Sara moved back to the row of handbasins. She needed something to lean on or against, some kind of physical support. She turned back to face Grissom, looking for something that she knew was not there yet.  
  
"You already knew that you would be the father if we succeeded. You have known for months. You just can't remember. The doctor in the hospital told me that I wasn't to mention anything to you that I thought might be your trigger event, or anything that was especially important in your memory."  
  
Grissom bit back a frustrated sigh.  
  
"I just told you I don't care what they think. What else are you keeping from me?"  
  
Sara looked stricken.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Grissom looked as cynical as he felt.  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
"Gil, please don't. The doctor said -"  
  
Grissom pounced.  
  
"That's the second time that you've called me 'Gil' and you just never do that."  
  
Sara closed her eyes, shutting out his features in self-defence, but finding them indelibly printed in her mind anyway. She gathered herself together and summoned up a glare.  
  
"Under the circumstances, you can forgive me for the lapse in courtesy."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Given your contribution to my 'condition' and the circumstances surrounding it, it shouldn't surprise you that I occasionally forget myself and call you 'Gil'."  
  
It was obvious to Sara that Grissom thought that he had merely donated the 'necessary' for her. He still had no clue about their lovemaking.  
  
She thought about all the information he had been given about cases by the staff at work on the shift. None of that had caused a relapse or difficulty as far as she could determine. Maybe it was about time to add a little more to the mixture after all. She straightened up ready to confront Grissom.  
  
The door to the washroom opened suddenly, making both Sara and Grissom start.  
  
Obviously Catherine hadn't remained outside to prevent anyone entering.  
  
The astonished face of one of the clerical staff from upstairs reminded Grissom that he was on strange turf.  
  
The woman rapidly backed out again, obviously deciding to go elsewhere.  
  
Grissom had briefly glanced at the woman, but now his focus was back with Sara.  
  
"We can't talk here."  
  
There was no confusing his statement for a question.  
  
"But make no mistake, we will talk. When the shift is over, come to the townhouse and I'll get you some breakfast, if you're up to it."  
  
Sara felt seriously conflicted. She desperately wanted to say 'yes'.  
  
"Sara?"  
  
Sara walked past Grissom to get to the washroom door.  
  
He beat her to it and stood in the way of it opening.  
  
Sara sighed in frustrated annoyance.  
  
"Okay, okay. I'll come over for breakfast."  
  
Grissom looked over her face.  
  
"And we'll 'talk'."  
  
Sara flicked a quick glance at him, then looked at his hand on the door.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
She tugged on the door handle and as Grissom stepped aside he said,  
  
"It wasn't a question."  
  
"Yeah, I know.  
  
Sara looked back at him again. Gil Grissom in the Ladies washroom f'crissake. She tutted.  
  
"Let me check the coast is clear. Y'know, you could have called me on your cell."  
  
Grissom just looked at her.  
  
Some things were just too important.  
  
As if he had spoken, Sara muttered.  
  
"Right."  
  
She opened the door and stuck her head out into the corridor. There was no one about. She opened the door wider.  
  
"Go."  
  
Grissom slipped past her, close enough to smell the faint trace of shampoo in her freshly washed hair.  
  
He walked away without a backward glance but Sara lingered to watch him go.  
  
Damn but he looked fine in those jeans.  
  
It was going to be a long shift until breakfast.  
  
Grissom almost made it to the exit without getting stopped until Greg came bounding up the corridor, his excessive energy almost a palpable thing.  
  
"Oh! Hi Grissom, didn't know you were in tonight."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
Grissom carried on walking without a pause.  
  
Greg looked after him with a puzzled frown and muttered under his breath.  
  
"Ohhhkay. So, 'not in' then. Thanks for clearing that up."  
  
Warrick glanced over at Sara as he drove out to their assignment. She was looking out of the side window but he didn't think that she was looking at the scenery.  
  
"You're quiet tonight."  
  
Sara turned back to face Warrick and gave him a smile of polite enquiry.  
  
"Umm?"  
  
He repeated the gist.  
  
"Quiet?"  
  
"Oh, sorry. Miles away. I'm fine thanks."  
  
"Sure?"  
  
"Yeah, fine. Just tired I guess."  
  
And thinking about the fact that I am two months pregnant, suffering from crazy mood swings and that I have to go and have breakfast with the baby's father in less than six hours time, and I don't know what I can tell him or not about how we were together and yada yada yada. I am just freaking out. No problem.  
  
"Well, this is an easy fix trip, you can rest for a half hour while I do the driving."  
  
"No, no I'm okay. Really."  
  
When Warrick looked at her again five minutes later she was out for the count.  
  
He let her sleep.  
  
Catherine Willows was deep in thought. To an outsider she was reading a glossy and eating her 'lunch' if one could call it that at three in the morning.  
  
But inside her head she was working.  
  
Grissom's appearance in the washroom had solidified her suspicions about the exact nature of the relationship between him and Sara. She did not know what Sara's problem was, but the holiday, their proximity plus opportunity equalled 'something' happening between them prior to the accident and Grissom's memory loss.  
  
For 'something' read 'sex'.  
  
Grissom may often have turned up for work on his days off before now, but he had never done it looking like he had just got out of bed and thrown on the first clothes that had come to hand.  
  
It was certainly the first time that she had seen him in the Ladies.  
  
Catherine shook her head over the vagaries of life. Grissom had finally put his pecker first and now he didn't even remember it.  
  
Poor bastard.  
  
It was almost funny.  
  
She wondered how they had left it before the accident. Had it been a 'one of' experience that they were going to pretend had never happened? Or would it have continued, discrete but acknowledged by the inner circle?  
  
They couldn't possibly have hoped to get it by the entire shift and keep it totally secret. They were trained investigators for heaven's sake.  
  
Catherine was pleased for Grissom though. She had been aware for a long time of his pained interest in Sara and his inability to do anything about it. She wondered what had happened to finally allow him to get past his very real fear.  
  
Perhaps it was for the best that he could not remember. The status quo had been restored and in six months it would all be history and no real harm done.  
  
Still, Catherine mused; it would have been fun to watch.  
  
From a safe distance, of course.  
  
Sara closed her locker and looked at her watch as she turned to leave.  
  
"You in a hurry?"  
  
Nick's voice came from behind Sara and sounded amused.  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact I am."  
  
The Texan smiled widely.  
  
"Meeting someone?"  
  
Sara smirked, unable to hide her amusement at the idea of Grissom standing under a clock somewhere with a bunch of flowers and some chocolates.  
  
"Yeah. Father Christmas came early and I've been real good."  
  
Nick took the rebuff in good spirit.  
  
"Translate: mind my own b. Well, you have a good time, Sar. Don't forget to get some rest now, you've been lookin' a little peaky lately."  
  
"Gee thanks Nick. Always appreciate your support."  
  
Nick put his hand on his chest and tried to look bashful.  
  
"Aw, shucks, now she's flirtin' with me."  
  
Sara good-naturedly slapped him on the arm. It was like hitting a tree.  
  
"Get lost frat boy."  
  
"After you, babe."  
  
They walked out to their vehicles together, joshing like siblings.  
  
It helped to take Sara's mind off her meeting with Grissom for a few minutes and she felt her mood lift again.  
  
Sara drove home, had a quick shower and changed her clothes. She wore a skirt and a fitted shirt. She took time out to apply minimal make up and a small spritz of perfume. She smiled a little mistily at the perfume bottle. It was a sensual blend of ylang ylang and patchouli and Grissom had bought it for her while they were away. She felt better able to face whatever was going to happen during breakfast.  
  
She felt her determination to tell Grissom the truth about the two of them grow as she neared the townhouse. She knew that Gil was committed to sharing that life with her, but would Grissom want the same thing even if he knew the whole truth? Knowing it wouldn't necessarily make him feel it. Could he fall in love again? Would he even want to try?  
  
Grissom looked up from the dining table at the sound of someone at the front door.  
  
Sara.  
  
At last. Maybe now he would get some answers.  
  
Sara looked up as the door opened in front of her. Her fledgling smile died as she took in Grissom's countenance. He was positively stone faced.  
  
He stepped back without a word and she brushed past him to enter. She did not see him frown as he caught her fragrance.  
  
Grissom followed Sara into the main room and crossed past her to go to the dining table.  
  
The table was set and Grissom pulled out one of the chairs.  
  
Sara was thoroughly unnerved by now, but took her seat as indicated and watched warily as Grissom went to the bar of the kitchen and picked up a bowl with a fork in it. He whisked efficiently for a few moments.  
  
"I was going to do omelettes until I realised that you shouldn't have raw egg, so they're going to be scrambled, okay?"  
  
Sara looked startled that he had actually spoken.  
  
"Sure. Fine."  
  
Grissom put a frying pan on the stove and waited for it to heat up. He had his back to Sara while he worked and she took the opportunity to wonder what had happened to promote the change in his attitude.  
  
Guessing doesn't always work and Sara decided that she wouldn't even try.  
  
"What's the matter, Grissom?"  
  
"Nothing. The eggs will only be a moment."  
  
"That's not what I mean and you know it."  
  
Grissom finished what he was doing, served up the eggs on to warmed plates and brought them to the table.  
  
"It's all I'm prepared to discuss at this moment, so eat up. You need to look after yourself now."  
  
Exasperated, Sara picked up her fork.  
  
"I have been looking after myself."  
  
Grissom seated himself and picked up his own fork.  
  
"It's not just you any more."  
  
Sara tightened her grip on the fork and wondered what the penalty for stabbing your Supervisor with aforementioned fork would be.  
  
She was pregnant. She could plead insanity.  
  
Sara suddenly saw the funny side and loosened her grip on the fork. She took a mouthful of the fluffy light eggs, chewed briefly and swallowed.  
  
"Yeah, I know Grissom, I know. I'm hitting the books. Doing the homework."  
  
They ate in silence for a few minutes.  
  
Sara looked at her plate and gestured with the fork.  
  
"These are delicious, almost as good as the ones you did -."  
  
Sara broke off, suddenly aware of what she had been about to reveal. She chided herself about making a better effort to check her speech before it left her mouth.  
  
Grissom's own fork paused on its laden way to his mouth.  
  
" I haven't prepared you eggs before."  
  
Sara looked at him.  
  
"As far as you can remember."  
  
Grissom put his fork back down, his appetite gone. As usual, they were back to the amnesia.  
  
"This has to stop. Either tell me or don't, but stop this...this...half-ness! I'm not stupid, I know that there is something that you are not telling me and it is driving me insane. It's time to fish or cut bait, so make up your mind!"  
  
Grissom stood up, pushing back his chair angrily. Sara looked up at him as he went over to the kitchen counter. He picked up a piece of paper and came back to the table.  
  
"And while you're at it, you might like to explain what happened here too."  
  
He handed her the paper, which Sara could now see was a letter from a prominent Vegas firm of lawyers.  
  
As Sara read through the letter she realised why he his attitude had changed since earlier in the shift.  
  
It was notification that the revisions to his Will had been completed and that the new copies were ready for his signature.  
  
"Oh."  
  
Sara's voice was flat, in direct contrast to Grissom's.  
  
" 'Oh'? Can't you come up with anything better than 'Oh'? What revisions have I made? Do you know?"  
  
Sara handed him back the letter and pushed away her now cold eggs. She had no appetite either.  
  
" Only the gist, you did it on your own. When we were discussing the procedure you said that, as the baby would be your only one, and, as your mother would still be taken care of, you wanted to leave your remaining estate to the child..."  
  
Sara hesitated, not sure how far to go.  
  
"And?"  
  
Grissom's arms were folded, his blue eyes hard.  
  
"And you wanted me to alter my Will so that you would be named as the child's father and custodial parent if anything happened to me."  
  
"Have you done that?"  
  
Sara avoided his gaze, looking down at the letter still in his hand.  
  
"You are now my next of kin, yes. As such, you will be the baby's next of kin above my parents or family."  
  
Grissom turned away from Sara without saying anything and walked to the window wall. He stared unseeingly out of the room.  
  
Sara desperately wanted to go and hold him, to give him the comfort of her arms, but knew that he needed to process this new information by himself.  
  
"If it's any help, this was your idea and you insisted on it. I tried to talk you out of it, but you refused."  
  
Grissom had already suspected as much. It was the kind of thing that he could imagine himself doing if he had found himself in that situation, for whatever reason. Contrary to how it may appear to Sara, he was angry with himself, not her. Angry with his blasted mind taking a time out, angry about the missing three months that frustrated the hell out of him.  
  
Fuck, he was just angry, period.  
  
Grissom's head started to pound with another headache. He ran a hand through his hair and down around his neck in an effort to release the tension in his shoulders.  
  
He spoke at last, his back still to Sara.  
  
"I believe you. It was just such a shock opening that letter and finding out that I'd done this and had no idea at all about it. It represented a loss of control over part of my life and makes me wonder what else I might have done."  
  
Sara felt her eyes fill and she blinked rapidly to dispel the extra moisture. Guilt rose in her and she knew that she had the power to end all this. Control over his own life was a paramount issue for him and she had to give him a measure of it back.  
  
She had to tell him, even if she lost him for good.  
  
"Grissom, I can tell you what happened. I can't make you feel what you felt, but - against hospital advice - I can tell you what really happened. If that is what you want."  
  
Grissom spun around and stalked across the room to her. He grabbed the upper part of both of her arms and held her stationary.  
  
"IF that is what I want?! Haven't you been listening?"  
  
Grissom abruptly took in her full eyes and her defeated posture. Whatever she was going to tell him was going to cost her dearly.  
  
Suddenly he was not sure that he wanted to know what had happened if it was going to make Sara this unhappy just at the thought of it.  
  
To Grissom it seemed the most natural thing in the world to slip his arms around Sara and pull her to his chest. She was stiff and unyielding for a moment, but then relaxed with a shaky sigh against him.  
  
His primary response was surprise at his own actions but it was closely followed by an acute sense of déjà vu.  
  
For Sara it was bliss to be in his arms once more. She had missed this so acutely that she thought that she would never feel completely whole again.  
  
Neither of them had the chance to find out what would have happened next if left to their own devices.  
  
The wholly unpleasant and unwanted sound of Grissom's beeper intruded into their moment.  
  
Grissom felt Sara's instinctive withdrawal and tightened his arms.  
  
"Ignore it."  
  
Sara started with surprise. Grissom ignoring a call?  
  
"You can't do that, it's probably important."  
  
"So is this."  
  
He looked down onto the top of Sara's bowed head.  
  
"I want -"  
  
Grissom's beeper went again.  
  
"Fuck!"  
  
He pulled his beeper off his belt and read the number.  
  
"It's Catherine."  
  
Grissom dialled the number on his cell and Catherine picked up on the first ring.  
  
"Grissom. Problem?"  
  
He listened to the woman on the other end of the line for a several moments. He turned and looked at Sara.  
  
"She's probably sleeping and has her cell off. I'll swing by her place and pick her up on the way in. Are the others on their way? Okay, that's good. What do we know so far?"  
  
Grissom listened for a few more moments.  
  
"We'll be there as soon as possible."  
  
He snapped shut the cell and pocketed it.  
  
Sara was already collecting her purse and heading for the door.  
  
"What's is it?"  
  
Grissom checked the time as he collected his jacket and keys.  
  
"Drug bust gone wrong. Apparently a second gang went in to rip off the first gang, unaware of the bust in progress. Twenty-seven bodies so far, including three of LVPD's finest. Eckle wants everyone in."  
  
Grissom paused and looked at Sara.  
  
"We'd better drive in separately. I'll say that I called you and you had just been in the shower and were checking your cell when I rang. Okay?"  
  
Sara nodded as she turned for the door.  
  
"Shower. Got it."  
  
Grissom made a snap decision.  
  
"Sara. The other matter."  
  
He saw her shoulders stiffen before she turned back to him and waited in silence.  
  
"Leave it for now. It can wait a little longer. I'll come to you when the time is right."  
  
"But -"  
  
"Leave it, Sara." . . . . . . . . . . .  
  
Catherine stood in the doorway of Grissom's office and looked at him seated at the desk.  
  
It had been a gruelling week for all of them. The body count from the drug bust had risen to twenty-nine and the police count had changed to four when it had been discovered that one of the drug 'gang' had been an undercover cop. The tenor of the whole building had been subdued but determined to uncover the truth.  
  
Grissom did not look up until he had signed the report that he was checking.  
  
"Catherine."  
  
She walked further into the office and took a chair. She had her jacket and purse with her and had been on her way home when she realised that Grissom was still in the building.  
  
"We've broken the back of this, why don't you go home on time today and get some rest."  
  
Grissom had the refusal ready on his lips but didn't use it. He suddenly realised just how tired he was. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the woman across the desk.  
  
"Okay."  
  
Catherine smiled in surprise at his sudden compliance.  
  
"Wow, that's a first. I expected more of a fight."  
  
Grissom locked away the report in front of him, then ran both hands over his short beard.  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you, but occasionally you do make sense."  
  
"And a compliment! What have you done with the real Gil Grissom?"  
  
Grissom just tipped his head, raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips in an expression that said 'damned if I know'.  
  
They both stood at the same time, left the office and the building to go to their respective vehicles.  
  
Despite his respect for her ability to take care of herself, Grissom still walked Catherine to her car. She looked up at him from the driver's seat after she had started the engine. He looked more than tired. He looked weary.  
  
"You still not sleeping well?"  
  
Grissom looked across the car lot rather than at Catherine. He wished he'd never mentioned his restless and unsatisfying sleep of late.  
  
"I'm fine, thanks. Much better."  
  
Catherine gave him a look that said she was not convinced, but let it go. At least he was on his way home now.  
  
"See you tonight."  
  
Grissom nodded and she pulled away.  
  
He walked back to his Denali and got in, but didn't start the engine immediately.  
  
This last week he had been sleeping heavily and several times had woken up feeling drugged and lethargic. He had been having vivid dreams, mostly about Sara.  
  
Some of them had her trying to talk to him across a crowded room. He could see her lips moving but not in a way that he could lip-read the words. He would try to get to her, but she would always be on the other side of the room to him.  
  
Other dreams were far more erotic in nature and more than once he had woken up aching with arousal and on the point of climax. While he had had these types of dreams before that featured Sara, these ones seemed far more...detailed...more knowledgeable somehow.  
  
Grissom sighed heavily as he started the Denali. First he needed sleep, then perhaps it was time to talk to Sara.  
  
Grissom frowned as he hung up his house phone. It was the second time that he had tried to call Sara this afternoon and this time he had inadvertently left it ringing long enough for her answering machine to pick up. He had left a brief message so that it didn't appear to be a 'hang-up' caller.  
  
Where was she?  
  
He trooped the well-worn route to the bathroom cabinet and pushed out a couple of painkillers from the blister pack. As he filled a glass with water he noted that there were not many tablets left; he would have to get some more soon.  
  
Preoccupied with Sara's whereabouts, he misjudged the placement of the glass back onto the shelf above the sink. The glass started to teeter and Grissom grabbed for it but his hand was wet. The glass slipped out of his fingers and fell to the floor, shattering into several pieces.  
  
Grissom cursed soundly and stepped carefully around the shards of glass. He returned to the bathroom with a dustpan and brush to clear up the debris.  
  
As soon as he crouched down to sweep he suddenly had an image in his head of clearing up broken glass. In his mind he could see his own hands with an unfamiliar brush and pan.  
  
Grissom tried to chase after the image but it faded away, leaving him with no clue as to where he had been at the time. Despite this he felt a surge of hope.  
  
He was beginning to remember.  
Sara had been to see her doctor. The OB/GYN had completed her 'booking bloods' so she was now officially pregnant. It had dawned on her whilst waiting for her blood to be taken for prenatal screening that at ten weeks, she was now a quarter of the way through the pregnancy.  
  
It was a sobering thought. It was also a poignant one too. She had hoped to be sitting here with Gil at her side, sharing these unique and irreplaceable moments.  
  
Sara let herself into her apartment, putting down her grocery shopping, her purse and the 'bumf' that the doctor had given her. She noticed immediately that her answering machine was blinking a message notification. She dropped her keys next to her purse on the kitchen counter and went over to the machine. She pushed the relevant button.  
  
"You have one new message."  
  
"We need to talk. Call me."  
  
Sara half-grinned despite her stomach-churning swoop of excitement at unexpectedly hearing Grissom's voice.  
  
He was still the master of brevity.  
  
Sara quickly put away her shopping and then picked up the phone.  
  
Only to put it down again. She would be seeing him in less than two hours at work.  
  
Sara stared at her hand resting on the phone. She had made a decision a week ago that if and when the time came that Grissom decided that he was ready to hear the truth, she would tell him everything. All about the cabin, the hot tub, the 'out of this world' lovemaking and just exactly how much that she loved him. Not the kind of declaration to be made at work.  
  
Now that the moment appeared to have arrived, she was suffering from excess cooling of the lower extremities.  
  
Cold feet.  
  
As she stood there, looking around her apartment, she reminded herself what was at stake here. The rest of her life to be faced without the love, support and comfort of the man she loved with all of her heart.  
  
Who she knew loved her back with all that he was.  
  
Her glance landed on the papers from the doctor's visit. It wasn't only her and Gill now. It was their family.  
  
Courage is not freedom from fear, it's being afraid but still carrying on.  
  
She picked up the phone.  
Grissom opened his front door and bent down to pick up his other grocery sack. As he straightened up and stepped into the townhouse he realised that the phone was ringing.  
  
Normally he didn't bother to hurry to answer telephones. If it were important the caller would ring back, if it were personal they would use his cell.  
  
He quickened his pace when he realised that it could be Sara trying to contact him. His cell had been playing up recently and he hadn't got around to changing the battery yet.  
  
With more haste than accuracy Grissom dropped the sacks on the table and reached for the phone.  
  
It stopped ringing.  
  
He snatched the phone up anyway, only to hear the dial tone.  
  
He banged the phone handset back on the stand in frustration and one of the grocery sacks on the table toppled over. The eggs that he had carefully placed on the top of the sack contents for safekeeping fell out on to the table and the impact popped the lid. One egg rolled out and off the opposite side of the table before Grissom could catch it.  
  
He walked around the dining table and looked at the smashed egg on the floor. It really was amazing how much mess one egg made.  
  
A minute later he was on his knees scooping up raw egg with kitchen paper towel. Little fragments of eggshell had exploded everywhere and crunched under his knees.  
He leaned forward to pick up some more of the spillage.  
  
The phone rang.  
  
The sound was so sudden and so close that Grissom jumped with surprise, banging his head on the underside of the table.  
  
It wasn't a hard knock, but Grissom cursed anyway.  
  
He got to his feet, wiping his hands on the paper towel, and reached for the phone.  
  
"Grissom."  
  
He tucked the phone under one ear while he continued to try to remove the sticky egg residue from his hands.  
  
"Mrs. Weston? No, sorry I was expecting someone else. Is there a problem?"  
  
Grissom moved to the sink and ran some water over his hands. Finally the last of the blasted stuff was off.  
  
He quickly dried his hands and took proper hold of the phone handset.  
  
"How much damage is there?"  
  
He listened to Mrs. Weston's report about the bird that had managed to find its way down the chimney of his house in the mountains. Between the soot smuts and the bird mess there was some cleaning and decorating that needed doing.  
  
"No that's fine, you go ahead. Repair to the original specs, and send me the bill. I'll try and come up next month and see if anything else needs doing before the winter. It's been some time since I've been up and checked the place over."  
  
He listened as Mrs. Weston laughingly pointed out that just over two months was hardly 'some time'.  
  
Grissom was frowning over what he had just heard while also trying to listen to was currently being said.  
  
He had been at the cabin recently?  
  
Grissom suddenly froze.  
  
He reached blindly for one of the barstools near the kitchen bar and sat down.  
  
"I'm sorry Mrs. Weston, could you repeat what you just said?"  
  
Sara had been unable to contact Grissom. There had been no answer on his landline and his cell had given the 'I'm turned off so try later' message.  
  
She had just finished rinsing her hair in the shower when she thought that she heard her doorbell. She turned off the shower and listened again. Crap. There was someone at the door.  
  
She decided to ignore it. If it were important they'd wait. She wasn't going to answer the door in her bathrobe.  
  
The person on the doorbell obviously thought that it was urgent. They hadn't stopped ringing the entire time Sara took to dry herself. In the end she covered up with a large cream coloured towelling robe - she saved the silk one for special occasions - and went to the door. She used the spy hole and saw a vastly distorted looking Grissom on the other side of the door.  
  
Sara looked at her watch, convinced for an absurd moment that she was late for work.  
  
'I guess you really do wanna talk.'  
  
She opened the front door of her apartment and before she could utter the words 'come in', Grissom had already stepped past her into the room. If she thought that he had looked cold before, he looked positively glacial now.  
  
She rushed into speech as she pushed the door shut.  
  
"I tried to call you, but your phone -."  
  
Grissom waited until she had closed the door before he interrupted her.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you. But now Sara, I'd really like to listen to what you have to say."  
  
Sara moved away from the door and headed for the couch. Grissom remained standing and she found his presence almost intimidating.  
  
"Well, sure. Where would you like me to start?"  
  
Sara did not sit down. She moved away from the couch to the kitchen area and she could feel Grissom's eyes on her the whole time.  
  
"Why don't you skip all the small stuff..."  
  
He moved to the kitchen bar and for the first time ever, Sara felt uneasy in his company.  
  
"...and move straight on to the bit where you explain how it is that you and I..."  
  
Sara went white when she looked into his eyes.  
  
"...are married."  
.TBC. 


	5. Last Chance 13

Disclaimer: Still don't own any of C.S.I., still TM product, and still a pity.  
  
Author: hazeleyes57  
  
Title: Last Chance, chapter 13  
  
Rating: R but not for much.  
  
Summary: Married? Whaaat?!  
  
Last Chance Chapter 12 B (13!)  
  
"...are married."  
  
White faced, Sara looked both at her husband and a stranger.  
  
It was a long moment before she found her voice.  
  
"How did you find out?"  
  
Grissom's expression went from frost to shocked disbelief.  
  
"So it's true?!"  
  
Despite the recent revelation, part of Grissom had honestly thought that Sara would deny it was true. He was sure that there had been some sort of misunderstanding.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Grissom found himself made both furiously angry and terribly afraid by that small word.  
  
"What the hell is going on?"  
  
Sara didn't know what else to say. Should she give him the barest bones of the tale or add flesh and substance? Could this lead to his trigger?  
  
She hugged herself, feeling alone in spite of the company.  
  
First things first.  
  
"How did you find out?"  
  
Grissom made an impatient gesture and sighed angrily.  
  
" Mrs. Weston called about the cabin. During the course of the conversation I mentioned that I hadn't been up there for ages, and she said that two months was hardly ages, and especially as it had been so memorable a visit with it practically being a honeymoon and all, she found it easy to remember. I asked her to elaborate. She did. At length."  
  
"Oh... of course."  
  
In an instant, Sara's mind took her back to the second week in the cabin in the mountains.  
  
The first week had been marvellous. Even if she had never seen Gil again it would have been a fantastic memory to carry with her for the rest of her days.  
  
But the second week, jeez, the second week had been special.  
  
"Penny for them."  
  
At the sound of Grissom's voice, Sara turned her head away from the floor length window and the mountain view.  
  
She smiled automatically, unable and quite unwilling to hide her pleasure from him.  
  
"Darn, sorry, but they're worth so much more."  
  
She watched him as he crossed the room towards her. Like her, he wore only a robe, loosely belted, and his hair was mussed.  
  
A light hint of five o'clock shadow was visible at his throat where he hadn't shaved below the beard line yet.  
  
"I'll pay anyway."  
  
Sara gestured at the view out of the window with her coffee mug.  
  
"I was just thinking how huge and solid and permanent this all is. Remembering what you said about how it made all your problems seem smaller."  
  
Grissom stood behind her and slipped his hands around her waist. He rested his chin on Sara's shoulder and contemplated the view outside.  
  
"Did you know that a couple of studies have shown that stressed smokers at work have a slightly lower blood pressure than stressed non smokers at work?"  
  
Sara turned in surprise at Grissom's apparent non-sequiter.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's not the cigarettes themselves; the health risks are well documented. It's because smokers leave the office or workplace and usually nowadays have to go outside to have a smoke. They have ten minutes away from the stressful situation that they are in."  
  
"So you are saying that this is your de-stressor?"  
  
"One of them."  
  
They stood in silent contemplation for a moment, then Grissom stirred.  
  
"So do you have a problem? When I first woke up alone I thought for one terrible moment that it had all been a dream."  
  
Sara patted his arm around her waist reassuringly.  
  
"No, no dream."  
  
She looked in her coffee mug, then out of the window, deliberately avoiding Grissom's gaze.  
  
"I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."  
  
Grissom waited, then prompted her when she appeared not to want to continue.  
  
"And?"  
  
Sara was silent for a long moment, but Grissom allowed her to choose her words without further prompting. She sighed.  
  
"I just couldn't stop thinking about where we go from here. It sounds really selfish when I think about wanting to know more. I mean, we know that we're in love, which is fantastic, believe me. But y'know, that's where the movie rolls the credits and everyone goes home. Where do we go from here?"  
  
Grissom squeezed her gently.  
  
"But that is fiction and this is reality. Contrary to my belief, the sky didn't fall in on me after I told you that I love you, so we go on. To the future. Together. Like anyone else we'll tackle our problems when they arise. Let's not borrow trouble."  
  
" I'm not. I just like to be prepared. I don't like not having the answers."  
  
"Neither do I, but that's what makes us good at our jobs. You have to trust in the future."  
  
Sara smiled at Grissom's earnest expression.  
  
"Y'know, for a guy who 'didn't know what to do about this' you're not doing so bad."  
  
"You make me try harder."  
  
Sara laughed outright. She turned in Grissom's arms and kissed him briefly before putting her empty coffee mug down on the table.  
  
"Ignore me when I get idiot's disease. I still over-talk. I don't know why I'm worrying. I don't even know yet which of my two options I'm going to be given yet."  
  
Sara saw the comprehension dawn in Grissom's eyes.  
  
"Baby or no baby?"  
  
Sara nodded in confirmation.  
  
Grissom looked into her eyes as he hugged her gently. She hadn't been the only one thinking deeply of late. He smiled.  
  
" How about a third option?"  
  
Sara looked a little baffled, but intrigued as well.  
  
"A third option?"  
  
Grissom grinned and it took years off him. Sara privately vowed to ensure that he did it more often.  
  
"Marry me."  
  
Sara's mouth fell open in shock.  
  
She was sure that her face was a picture.  
  
So many things were going through her mind all at once.  
  
"What?"  
  
Grissom smiled his pursed-lipped smirk that he had when he was trying not to grin.  
  
"You heard. Marry me. Here. Now. This week."  
  
Sara looked into his warmly amused blue eyes, searching for answers.  
  
"You're teasing me, this is a joke, isn't it?"  
  
Grissom shook his head.  
  
"No. Would I joke about marriage?"  
  
"No, I guess not. I don't know what to say. It's such a surprise...nice one, though."  
  
Sara smirked, elation beginning to build now that the shock was wearing off.  
  
Grissom raised his eyebrows.  
  
"So...?"  
  
Sara mimicked him with a megawatt grin.  
  
"So...?"  
  
"Don't make me drag it out of you Sidle. Yes or no. Marry me. It makes sense. I'm single, you're single, we get on in bed and out of it, and we're going to have a baby."  
  
"A-ah, you don't know that yet!"  
  
Grissom shrugged.  
  
"Call it a hunch."  
  
Sara poked him in the chest.  
  
"...and that wasn't a very romantic list there, mister. It 'makes sense'?"  
  
"And you still haven't given me an answer. C'mon, marry me, make an old man happy."  
  
Sara tried to look stern but failed miserably and her grin widened.  
  
"Why should I?"  
  
Grissom's smile faded and he looked serious.  
  
"Because the follies a man regrets most in his life are those which he didn't commit when he had the opportunity. You're not a folly, but I won't let this opportunity pass by. Because I love you. I probably won't tell you it often enough. I'll be hard to live with because I've not lived with anyone for a long time. I like my kind of order, which won't always be what fits in with you. But with you I want to take the chance to discover that I have found the missing part of me."  
  
Sara's smile softened as Grissom spoke, and by the time he had finished speaking her eyes held a soft sheen of tears. She felt moved by the honest confession and even more sure of her decision.  
  
She hugged him as he hugged her, and as her lips brushed his ear she whispered.  
  
"Yes. I'll marry you. Because I know that you are the missing part of me."  
  
Once the idea had taken root, there was no holding Grissom back. As he pointed out to Sara, he didn't want to take the chance on her coming to her senses and realising what she was about to do.  
  
Grissom suggested that the marriage take place on the outcrop of rock where they had made love in the rain. The local Justice of the Peace could perform the simple ceremony, with Mrs Weston and her daughter Monica as the two witnesses.  
  
At Sara's request Grissom was resplendent in a dark silver grey suit, black shirt and silver tie.  
  
With Mrs Weston's very excited and helpful connivance, Sara had managed to get hold of a simple full-length strapless white sheath dress. It had a gossamer thin net overcoat with it that floated about Sara in the gentle breeze making her look ethereally beautiful and Grissom told her later that he thought that he'd never seen her look lovelier.  
  
After the legal part of the ceremony had been completed, the Justice turned to Grissom with a smile.  
  
"...and now, I believe that your wife has something that she'd like to say."  
  
Sara was still holding Grissom's hand; the unfamiliar weight of their wedding bands a new experience.  
  
She turned to face her husband, and took hold of his other hand too. No longer nervous, she looked into Grissom's eyes for a long beat, then smiled.  
  
"From this day forward you shall not walk alone. My heart shall be your shelter and my arms will be your home."  
  
As Grissom kissed his bride, Mrs Weston wasn't the only one in tears.  
  
"Sara!"  
  
Grissom's gruff tone brought Sara back to the present with a bang. She looked into those same eyes, but didn't see the man she married.  
  
As so often of late she was experiencing two extremes of emotion.  
  
Relief that Grissom finally knew that they were married and she no longer had to guard every moment against telling him, but dismay that his reaction demonstrated that he had clearly not recovered his memory.  
  
"I'm waiting."  
  
Sara remembered to breathe again when she began to feel light-headed. She folded her arms in a defensive gesture, but then put one hand to her trembling lips. Her fingers were icy.  
  
She felt like weeping but despised the way it made her feel weak and vulnerable. The small burst of fury that it gave her strengthened her backbone and she straightened up to her full height.  
  
"Tough. I'm waiting too. I've been waiting for weeks. You're not the only one suffering here."  
  
Sara turned her back on the astonished Grissom and filled the kettle, mainly for something to do with her hands.  
  
"What?!"  
  
Grissom sounded as surprised as he looked. Sara had not reacted as he had expected her to, and he felt defensive. He felt that he was the one that was owed an explanation.  
  
"Dammit Sara, you can't just tell me that it's 'tough'. What the hell is going on? You've been lying to me all this time! Dammit woman, leave what you're doing and turn round."  
  
She turned back to face Grissom.  
  
He didn't look quite so furious now, but it pained Sara to see that underneath the still angry expression there was also a curiously hurt look about him.  
  
Almost as if he felt that she had gone off and married someone else.  
  
"I haven't lied to you Grissom. Well, okay, except when I told you that I wasn't hiding anything else. But at least try to look at it from my side. I had been told that I couldn't tell you anything about the missing three months."  
  
Sara raised one hand when it looked like Grissom was readying himself to interrupt her.  
  
"I know, I know. You don't care what they think. Well, I do care and they told me that you must not be forced into remembering whatever it was that had so traumatised you that you wanted to forget it. Even if it was important. Especially if it were important."  
  
Sara looked up at Grissom, her eyes full.  
  
"And part of me was terrified that the thing that had so traumatised you had been our marriage...Do you have any idea how difficult this has been for me?"  
  
Grissom's anger still simmered along underneath, but it was now tempered with other emotions. Part of him felt deceived and betrayed. As if Sara had been unfaithful. Even if it had been with his 'other' self.  
  
Part of him was simply stunned.  
  
They were married. Married. Him and Sara. Husband and wife.  
  
Unbelievable.  
  
How the hell could he have possibly forgotten that?  
  
How had he come to be married? What had prompted the proposal?  
  
The 'why' was suddenly obvious; Sara was pregnant.  
  
Had it been just a practical solution? A 'might as well' rationale? Or had there been more to it?  
  
Grissom looked at her, trying to see the truth of it all in her face. She looked back at him, distressed and yet oddly hopeful.  
  
Sara wished that Grissom would say something, anything but this odd silence.  
  
Grissom - for once - didn't know where to start.  
  
Which question to ask first?  
  
Fortune favours the bold.  
  
"Did we...?"  
  
Grissom waved his hand vaguely between the two of them across the work surface.  
  
Despite the situation, Sara almost smirked but managed to stop herself. Clearly Grissom was not comfortable with this conversation.  
  
Such as it was.  
  
She summoned up her best innocent look.  
  
"Did we...you know...?"  
  
Grissom nodded once, his face pale.  
  
"Oh, yeah! "  
  
Sara managed to convey a whole wealth of meaning within her fervent drawl.  
  
Unfortunately the look on her erstwhile husband's face wiped out any humour in the situation.  
  
Grissom was devastated.  
  
He'd actually had sex with Sara.  
  
No, he wouldn't have just had sex - he would have made love to her. He would have told her with his body what he couldn't with his voice.  
  
But either way he had no memory of it.  
  
Grissom felt like beating his head on the work surface. How could the fates be so cruel?  
  
Sara was in such a heightened state of stress that she picked up his devastation but misinterpreted it completely.  
  
She assumed that his distress was because he had finally realised that they really were married.  
  
The sound of the kettle boiling intruded into the tense atmosphere and Sara - grateful for the interruption - turned around to make herself a fruit tea.  
  
Grissom looked at her back. How could she be so calm?  
  
The last hour had changed Grissom's world upside down and inside out. He no longer knew for certain what was real and what was not. Why the hell had he forgotten the single most important thing that had ever happened to him? Even more oddly, why hadn't he - trained to notice - picked up any clue about their marriage? There must have been something that he would have noticed.  
  
The wedding band. Sara must have one. Had he got one?  
  
Grissom suddenly remembered Sara standing awkwardly in his hospital room, her hands in her pockets while they struggled to find something to say to each other.  
  
Her hands were in her pockets.  
  
Like a witness, he heard his own voice in his head.  
  
'This is open. Didn't they seal it?'  
  
Sara must have opened the personal effects envelope to remove his ring. She had obviously still been wearing hers in the hospital.  
  
Sara watched the emotions play over Grissom's face as he sorted through his available pieces of memory. If she knew him at all, he'd be sorting through his thoughts for the clues that he had missed.  
  
Grissom started, making Sara jump a little in surprise.  
  
"That explains why the hospital allowed you in on the results from my exam."  
  
Sara nodded.  
  
"Yeah. As your wife they assumed that you'd want me there."  
  
Grissom looked at Sara again.  
  
His wife.  
  
His greatest wish.  
  
His biggest fear.  
  
Where did they go from here?  
  
Almost as if she had heard Grissom's thoughts, Sara picked up her watch and nearly swore.  
  
"Shoot, I'm gonna be late for work."  
  
Grissom looked nonplussed. They had unfinished business, he wasn't leaving yet.  
  
"Work?"  
  
Sara looked back at him as she headed for her bedroom, loosening the sash on her robe as she went.  
  
"Yeah, y'know Gris, your home from home."  
  
Grissom caught a glimpse of silky leg as Sara paused in the doorway and leaned back into the main room.  
  
"You gonna be here when I come out?"  
  
Grissom looked at her like someone who had wandered on stage during a play, having been given the wrong lines to learn.  
  
He didn't know what to say except that he needed to know what had happened.  
  
"Sara, just tell me one thing."  
  
Sara paused, and Grissom couldn't tell what she was thinking.  
  
"If it's appropriate. Shoot."  
  
Grissom looked discomforted. It was not a look that Sara had seen on him very often.  
  
"Was it a marriage of convenience?"  
  
Sara looked at him for a long moment, hurt, but trying to keep her expression neutral. As if she would do such a thing to him.  
  
She wondered if that was what Grissom needed to believe had happened. A soulless marriage of convenience, just for the sake of a potential baby.  
  
An empty marriage of convenience, one in which he appeared to not have remembered that he had asked if they had slept together.  
  
"I can't answer that."  
  
Grissom's reply shot out.  
  
"Can't? Or won't?"  
  
"Alright, I won't answer it. You either remember or you figure it out. Either way I'm not going to force your hand."  
  
'Though God knows I want to.' She added mentally.  
  
When Grissom appeared to have no immediate reply, Sara went into her bedroom and left the door open while she dressed.  
  
Whether or not the move was deliberately orchestrated, Grissom found that he could see Sara's shadow on the wall as she dressed. He also found himself unable to look away as the reverse striptease progressed.  
  
Part of him was horrified at his voyeuristic enjoyment of the shadow dance, but part of him already justifying his behaviour - she was his wife, after all.  
  
As Grissom stood, mesmerised, he unconsciously moistened his dry lips with his tongue tip.  
  
The remote part of his brain that wasn't hardwired to the primitive male was telling him that Sara would be out in a moment and could discover the reaction that she was creating in him.  
  
Unfortunately, caveman was in charge and Grissom had stopped thinking.  
  
That is, he had stopped thinking with the rational part of his brain.  
  
What he couldn't see with his eyes his imagination filled in. He had thought of her often and that - coupled with the knowledge that they had already been together - made him rock hard in moments.  
  
He wanted her.  
  
He had always wanted her.  
  
A traitorous little voice in his head was whispering ' she's yours now, you can have her'.  
  
Grissom took a step forward.  
  
He took another.  
  
Sara switched off her bedside light once she was dressed and turned to leave the room.  
  
Only to be brought up in surprise by the sight of Grissom in the doorway.  
  
"Grissom?"  
  
It didn't take Sara a moment to realise why he was there. The 'why' was very apparent. The 'who' was instantly what concerned her. Her husband or her Supervisor?  
  
Did she care about the distinction? They were both the same man. But she felt as if being with Grissom would be being unfaithful to Gill.  
  
But she wanted him.  
  
She had always wanted him.  
  
Grissom didn't speak but stepped further into the darkened room.  
  
Sara was torn. Her arousal had leapt in response to his, but this was so wrong for so many reasons.  
  
Not least of all was the fact that they were both due at work in less than half an hour.  
  
But Jeez, she had missed being with him.  
  
Her brain may have been listing reasons, but her feet were moving forward.  
  
"Gris, wait!"  
  
Sara stopped short of reaching him, her hand up to halt him, but he stepped straight into her personal space, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.  
  
Sara fell into the maelstrom of emotions and physical reactions. Dear Lord it was heaven. And Hell. For an instant she responded; she couldn't help clutching him to her and her mouth opened under his insistent tongue.  
  
Grissom took instant advantage of his opportunity, plundering Sara's mouth, his fire readily met by hers.  
  
Sara squirmed against the welcome solidity of his arousal.  
  
There was no past and no future. There was only this glorious now.  
  
Grissom couldn't get close enough to Sara. He turned them both and backed her up against the wall, pressing himself against her. Somehow her hands were in the way, so he took hold of them both in one of his hands and held her wrists pinned together above her head.  
  
The position had the added advantage of making Sara's breasts push out and he briefly savoured the view as he nudged her legs apart with one knee.  
  
Grissom leaned in and nuzzled Sara's neck, breathing in the fresh clean scent of her.  
  
"Please Grissom..."  
  
Sara's voice pleaded with him and he ran his free hand from her left hip up past her waist and finally, God finally closed on her left breast, where he applied gentle pressure, his fingers seeking and finding the already hard nub through her shirt.  
  
Sara flinched in momentary pain, her breasts more tender than they had been a month ago. But even though she wasn't entirely comfortable, she still didn't want him to stop. The exquisite joy that sang through her with each of his kisses made her feel so good that her eyes brimmed with tears of happiness.  
  
Grissom was barely aware of the two of them as separate people. The fire that ran along his veins consumed him and made him want more. She was so...so...Christ, just everything that he'd ever imagined. He moved up her throat to kiss her lips.  
  
And tasted salt.  
  
Salt? Tears?  
  
He stopped dead, his eyes wide with burgeoning horror.  
  
Sara hadn't been pleading with him to go on, she had been pleading with him to stop.  
  
Grissom abruptly let go of Sara, his face tight with self-loathing. He pushed off against the wall and looked at her.  
  
He was disgusted with his behaviour.  
  
What must she be thinking of him?  
  
"Sara...I...no, we can't."  
  
She had seen his disgust. God, he must think that she was mad.  
  
Part of her had desperately gambled that this encounter would have helped restore his memory, but half of her hadn't had any thought other than to be with him again. She shouldn't have rushed him.  
  
"No, it's my fault. It's me."  
  
Grissom shook his head as he backed away from her.  
  
"No. This won't happen again. I'll make sure of it."  
  
Sara started to cry in earnest as he turned and headed for the door.  
  
"No! Don't go! Not like this. Please Gil, not like this!"  
  
Grissom's step faltered, but then he carried on.  
  
The slam of the apartment door seemed to echo in Sara's head for an age.  
  
Then the only sound that could be heard was that of sobbing.  
  
. . . . . . . . . . x x x x x x x x x  
  
From that day Grissom was as good as his word. Or as bad, depending on your point of view. He rarely partnered Sara on cases, and usually only when one of the others was present, or it was unavoidable.  
  
For Sara it was a retreat to the bad old days of mistrust and enmity, and the atmosphere at work was terrible. Everyone on the nightshift was walking on eggshells around both of them without any idea why. The two main protagonists were close mouthed about the whole thing. Ask either of them, and the answer was always,  
  
'I'm fine'.  
  
Speculation on dayshift was rife that they had been having an affair and that it had gone wrong. After two weeks without any sign of a thaw in proceedings, Catherine went to see Grissom in his office.  
  
Playing heavily on both her friendship with Gil and her association with him at work, Catherine at first tried to discuss 'the problem' but was firmly rebuffed. She then insisted that Grissom find the plug and pull it.  
  
She pointed out at length that the department as a whole was suffering when two supposedly grown up people started acting like spoilt brats.  
  
Grissom had leaned back in his chair and dropped his pen on his desk.  
  
Catherine was right to be concerned and point out his lack of judgement; he was behaving like an idiot. Though obviously he wasn't going to tell her that.  
  
Just because he was appalled with his own behaviour was no reason to give her the satisfaction of agreeing with his own assessment. He assured Catherine that he would 'deal' with the matter.  
  
Grissom sighed heavily as he seated himself at his desk. He had just finished handing out the assignments to everyone in the breakroom. Sara had been a little subdued, but had brightened a little when she and Warrick had been given a DB found in suspicious circumstances.  
  
He noticed that Sara was beginning to look a little more well rounded than usual and wondered if anyone else had noticed. She was a little over twelve weeks now, and still - as far as he knew - had not told anyone about the pregnancy. He wondered how she was feeling.  
  
It hurt every day to be so close to Sara when she clearly didn't want anything to do with him.  
  
Since the encounter in her apartment he had been experiencing more dreams of a profoundly erotic nature, but no more memories.  
  
Sometimes at work he felt ashamed of his thoughts in Sara's company. It made him sharp when he had no intention of being so.  
  
Sara was not consciously avoiding Grissom, but she tried to minimise her contact with him, just to try to help him get over his disgust at her behaviour. Each time she thought that it was about time that they sit down and discuss the situation away from work, something would always crop up or he would cut her dead without even trying.  
  
It was soul destroying and wearing her down gradually.  
  
The only good thing was that she was blooming in the pregnancy without an iota of any of the classic side effects. No nausea, no cramps, no swollen ankles, no cravings, no faintness, nothing. Zip.  
  
If she didn't know better, she wouldn't have thought she was pregnant.  
  
Except, of course, none of her pants fit anymore, but that was to be expected.  
  
It went with the territory.  
  
Various glasses of fresh orange juice clacked together above the centre of the table and Catherine's voice rose above the hubbub in the diner.  
  
"We rock!"  
  
The rest of the nightshift chorused the toast, and Grissom allowed a smile to escape.  
  
They had cracked a big case last night and now they were all celebrating over breakfast.  
  
Grissom took the opportunity to steal a glimpse of Sara when some of the food order turned up at the table. She looked well, if a little down. She was hiding it better than he thought he was.  
  
It hadn't helped him to realise yesterday that he was going down with one of those unpleasant twenty-four hour flu-like illnesses.  
  
He hated being ill.  
  
He refused to even admit it to himself, let alone Catherine, that he was feeling below par.  
  
To add insult to injury, someone had changed the coffee that was used in the break room. The new stuff tasted foul and he could barely drink it.  
  
Catherine looked around the table with discrete satisfaction. Since her 'chat' with Grissom the other day, things seemed to be mostly back on an even keel.  
  
She noticed that Grissom wasn't eating. It was difficult to tell in the fluorescent strip lighting, but he looked quite pale.  
  
As she wasn't sitting next to him, she leaned over towards him.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
Grissom nodded once.  
  
"It's nothing."  
  
Which proved to Catherine that there was an 'it'.  
  
Hmmm. Interesting.  
  
She filed it away.  
  
Two days later Catherine was listening to Doc. Robbins as he gave her the salient points about their victim on the table.  
  
"...and you can see here in the back the two single stab wounds, one to the left, one right lung. Cause of death was suffocation due to simultaneous pneumothorax. Both lungs collapsed at the same time. What's up with Gil?"  
  
Catherine had been intent on examining the wound sites and took a moment to realise what the pathologist had tagged on the end.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
" 'Gruesome Grissom' the man who doesn't bat an eye at anything has had to leave two posts looking very green about the gills - no pun intended."  
  
Catherine eyed the older man speculatively.  
  
"Mmm, yeah. Stomach flu, hit him pretty hard. He'll be fine."  
  
Robbins just shrugged and finished up the notes on his post. He didn't look convinced.  
  
Catherine left the room and changed back out into her regular clothes. She went to find Grissom.  
  
She was on the way to his office when she bumped into him - almost literally - coming out of the men's room.  
  
"Hey, just looking for you."  
  
Catherine looked Grissom over. He looked worse than some of their vic's.  
  
He was as white as a sheet and looked a little unsteady on his feet.  
  
"Well, you've found me."  
  
The pair of them entered Grissom's office and took their usual seats.  
  
"You look like crap, you should be at home."  
  
"Really Doctor Willows?"  
  
Grissom opened his eyes and looked at her blearily. He rummaged around in a pocket for a moment and came up with a couple of individually wrapped dry crackers. He opened the pocket, or at least tried to.  
  
Catherine tutted in amusement to hide her concern, took the packet and opened it. She handed it back to him. He munched slowly on one of the crackers.  
  
"It comes and goes, I'll be okay in a minute. These seem to help."  
  
Catherine looked at him for several long moments, then held up a hand and counted off her fingers.  
  
"You look pale, you're tired, you've ducked out of a couple of posts through nausea and you've got it now too, you're light-headed, you're off your food, and you have frequency."  
  
She grinned at the prostrate Grissom.  
  
"Y'know Gil, if I didn't know that it was impossible, I'd think that you were pregnant."  
.  
.TBC 


	6. Last Chance 14

Disclaimer: CSI et al not my property, not a jot, not a sausage. Oh poo.

Title: Last Chance

Author: hazeleyes57

Rating: PG

Summary: Everyone deserves a second chance.

**Last Chance Chapter 14**

It was just a question of mind over matter.

Gil Grissom lay very still. He looked up and took a deep breath. He let the breath out of his mouth slowly and calmly. Relax, he told himself.

Mind over matter. Brains over biochemistry.

He could do this. He had taken on some of the biggest and best that the roller coaster designers could offer and he hadn't let himself down yet.

One foot first. So far so good.

Other foot. Okay. Shaky, but okay.

One side of his mouth quirked upwards in self congratulation. He might just get through this.

Grissom brought his head up and eased into a sitting position. There, see? Easy.

He took a big breath.

Stood up.

His stomach roiled, indicating its displeasure. Overwhelming nausea hit and sweat beaded his forehead.

Crap.

Bathroom over breakfast.

Ten minutes later Grissom viewed himself in the bathroom mirror as he rinsed out his mouth.

His colour was improving and he did feel a little better now that he had actually been ill. He wiped his face and hands, left the bathroom, then went out to the kitchen area of his townhouse.

For the last week Grissom had endured the same dismal start to his afternoon. It was getting beyond a joke and he hadn't been laughing to begin with.

If this was stomach flu it was a bizarre case. It had lasted too long, and he had no temperature.

Perhaps he should consider Catherine's suggestion that he keep crackers beside his bed.

Grissom frowned as he moved around his kitchen, collecting the ingredients for pancakes. The smirk on Catherine's face and her 'pregnant' comment had been particularly unwelcome at the time. He had been feeling very nauseated and her amusement at his expense had not helped him.

He made a well in the flour in his glass bowl and cracked an egg into the well. He added some milk to the well.

Of course, Catherine didn't know that Sara was pregnant, or that he was the father, so there had been no suggestion of 'sympathetic pregnancy' in her observations about his symptoms, but it had been a shock to hear the contents of her list and immediately think of it himself.

At least as immediately as his groggy brain had able to.

Grissom discarded the two halves of eggshell into the waste and used a fork to start mixing the raw egg and the milk in the flour well.

It was absolutely ridiculous, naturally. Just a coincidence that he had a flu-like illness at this time.

He gradually incorporated the remaining flour into the enlarging well until there was no more dry flour. He mixed the batter and then poured it into a jug to stand for a while.

Ab – so – lut – ely ridiculous idea. Sympathetic pregnancy. Ha! No - one was that sympathetic pal.

Grissom washed up the dirty utensils and wiped down the work surface, the latter with unnecessary vigour.

He rinsed out the cloth and hung it up to dry.

Now, where had he put the pickles?

                                             xxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara read through the letter from her OB-GYN for a second time and rechecked the date written in the first paragraph.

She had been informed that the date had been set for her ultrasound at twenty weeks. Her feelings were mixed. Excitement to be looking forward to the next stage, but sadness that Gil wasn't sitting here reading the letter with her.

Sara reached up to the chain around her neck and pulled it from under her T. Her fingers traced the warm gold wedding bands that were threaded on the necklace. She had made a promise not to remove hers, but she had had no choice when it came to Gil's health. This was the best that she could do to keep it close without it being noticed. She remembered Gil holding her on their last day at the cabin. _'The dust will soon settle and before you know it things will be just like before. Only better.' _

Things could have been better since the accident. Things could have been a lot worse.

Grissom could have died. She could have, and the baby with her, unknown at the time.

Sara shivered with the turn of her gloomy thoughts. She looked down at her belly and smoothed her right hand down over the material of her T. No one had said anything at work yet, but some of them must have noticed that she had put on weight. She had gone up two bra sizes already.

Greg, at least, would have noticed that.

"Hey kid, you in there."

Sara addressed her nearly bump.

"Shall I let them guess about you, or shall I tell them?"

She tipped her head, tucking her dark hair around behind one ear.

"No comment, huh? See? Just like your Dad already. Nothing to say."

Sara half-grinned.

"Y'know what? I'll wait a little before I tell them about you. Keep it our secret for a while longer. But I'm going to tell Gris about the ultrasound. He said to ask him about it nearer the time, and I know that Gill wanted to be there."

She had taken her wedding band off the necklace as she was speaking and now slid the ring on to the correct finger. She looked at it, remembering Gil putting it there.

Sara looked at her watch. She had a few hours before work yet; she'd leave it on while she was at home. She tucked the necklace with Gil's ring still on it back under her T, and made a mental note to put her ring back before she left her apartment.

If she was going to face the guys at work wearing a wedding band, she sure as hell wanted to be standing beside her husband when she did it.

As Sara went about her housekeeping chores her mind was going over the potential reactions of the people she worked with when she chose to tell them about the baby. The only thing that she wouldn't be expecting was surprise. They probably had it all figured out already. The first thing they would all be thinking about – even if they didn't say it out loud - would be the identity of the father.

Sara grinned as she dusted her sound system. She had suddenly had this picture in her head of all of them around the table in the break room, her at one end of the table and Grissom at the other. She would tell them about the baby, and everyone's gaze would go from her to Grissom.

He had better have his 'great stone face' ready.

They were all going to assume that he either was the father or knew who was.

There was no point in telling them that she had opted for AI; when the truth came out about their marriage, they would all be pissed that she'd misled them.

Sara suddenly realised that she was working on the assumption that the truth would eventually come out. Grissom would remember, they would be together.

She didn't want to think about what would happen if he didn't remember, but one thing was for sure. If he fell in love with her once, he could do it again. She was no quitter. And this baby would have his name.

Regardless of what hers was at the time.

Sara looked again at the still new looking gold band on her left hand.

Mrs. Sara Grissom.

She still had trouble believing that they had actually got this far. She grinned.

_Cool._

_                                         xxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Warrick loaded his case into the back of Grissom's Denali, went around to the front passenger door and got in to the vehicle. He waited while Gris loaded his case and came round to get in the driver's seat.

As Warrick had expected, Grissom did not comment as he started the engine and drove away from the scene that they had just processed.

He knew that the older man was probably just as upset as he was about the dead girl, but just had more experience of covering up how he felt. Grissom may be short on people skills, but it didn't mean that he felt nothing.

They drove in silence for a few miles.

"You okay?"

Warrick turned to look at Grissom at his enquiry.

"I will be. It's always hard. Kids."

Grissom glanced at him, but didn't add anything.

"Makes me more determined to catch the perp. though." Warrick shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "At least it wasn't Catherine who had to process this one."

Grissom looked at Warrick in surprise. Did he see Catherine as weaker in some way?

"Because...?"

Warrick looked out of the window rather than at Grissom. His right arm rested on the door and his fingers worried at his lip absently. He knew that Gris was probably wondering if he saw Catherine as a weak link because she was a mother, but in actual fact it was quite the opposite. He saw Catherine as stronger simply because she could still do a damn fine job despite the conflicting draws on her time.

"We all see enough bad stuff going down without having to process a dead girl similar in age and appearance to your own child. How would you feel if it was a body that resembled someone you cared for – your wife or your child?"

Grissom was glad that the other man was not looking at him. He knew that the question was rhetorical, but Warrick had unwittingly hit the nail right on the head.

Grissom knew exactly how it felt to be in that position. He would never forget his horror when he thought that he was staring at Sara's dead body in that cold and sterile bathroom.

That had been bad enough. But a child, his child?

Grissom felt sick. He swallowed bile and took a breath.

"We can't make it personal."

Warrick sighed and turned to glance at Grissom.

"Yeah, man. I know. Don't mean it's easy though."

Grissom had no argument there.

The rest of the drive was completed in silence.

                                                  xxxxxxxxxx

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?"

Greg's voice was unusually hesitant. And quiet.

From above his head Sara's voice was breezily confident.

"Sure. I use this all the time; it's just usually on a lower shelf. Nicky must have moved it when he tidied up in here."

Greg's grip on Sara's hips tightened slightly and the sweat gathered on his forehead. Normally the king of cool, he was flustered not only about being in the storeroom with Sara while she hunted for a pot of Grissom's famous red creeper, but also about holding Sara steady – by the waist - on a short step ladder whilst she reached up for the uppermost shelf. Greg had offered to go and find the taller steps, but Sara had just stared at him with a look that spelled 'wuss' and his natural competitive streak had brought him up to bat.

He would just zone out about Sara's butt just inches from his face. It was not there. Not bugging him. Nada, naha, nope, no way.

"Ah, found it! I knew it was here someplace, I told - "

"SARA! What the hell do you think you are doing?"

Grissom's furious voice from behind Greg made him jump and he instinctively let go of Sara in the age-old reaction to threat; flight, thinking 'I am touching someone else's woman and that someone else is less than three feet away and sounds really pissed'.

Fortunately for Sara he managed to override that instinct almost immediately and he grabbed her again before she could fall. Sara squawked in surprise, nearly dropping the jar of red creeper.

Grissom was in no mood to appreciate the humour of the situation, but Warrick, standing behind him and aware that Sara was not in any real danger, saw the panic on Greg's face and his dilemma of whether or not to grab Sara again in front of Grissom.

He didn't envy the proto-CSI for one second.

Grissom strode forward and took hold of Sara by one arm, both he and Greg helping her down. Greg let go immediately her feet hit the floor.

Both he and Grissom were pale – for quite different reasons, though both based on fear.

Sara looked from one to the other.

"Hey, lighten up, I'm okay."

Grissom rounded on her, icily furious.

"I can believe this stunt of Greg, but you should have known better than to put yourself at risk, especially in - "

He cut off mid sentence even as Sara glared at him.

"I said I'm okay."

Warrick and Greg looked at the other two and waited to see what would happen next. Their heads swivelled like spectators at a tennis match.

Grissom took a breath and suddenly seemed to realise that he was still holding Sara's arm. He abruptly let go of her.

"Next time use the correct tools for the job. And if you must get something off the top shelf, get one of the men to get it for you. No more climbing, understood?"

Sara found herself the focus of three pairs of eyes. Fear, anger and amusement. Her lips twitched, but she obliged her Supervisor.

"Understood."

Grissom turned and stalked off, forgetting that he had come to the store to replenish his case.

Warrick eyed the retreating man with speculation and then turned back to Sara with amusement.

"I don't know yet what you are up to girl, but that's one tiger's tail I'd leave alone."

Sara just grinned and shook her head as she loaded her case and added the jar of red creeper. She was thrilled with Grissom's reaction.

Greg looked like he had eaten something unpleasant.

"My career as a CSI is _so_ over."

Warrick clapped him on the shoulder as they turned to leave the store.

"It's fortunate that you are needed in the lab then, isn't it?"

                                                  xxxxxxxxxxx

"You got a minute?"

Grissom looked up from his desk at the sound of Sara's voice.

To Sara he had the blank look of someone who had been concentrating hard on what they had been doing. He looked at her and then at his piled up desk.

"Uh, no. But I'll take one. Problem?"

Grissom peered over his glasses at her hovering in the open doorway.

Sara was wearing a loose patterned blouse over her usual black pants and her hair was tied back. She had a slightly determined air about her, as if she expected Grissom would resist giving her the required minute.

She entered the office and closed the door behind her. She moved to one of the chairs in front of Grissom's desk and sat down, noticing without comment that there were individual packets of crackers dotted around at strategic places. Obviously he was still suffering with his 'flu'.

Grissom immediately noted that – to him at least – it was more obvious that she was pregnant when she was seated.

"No, no problem. Two pieces of information for you. One, I have the date for my ultrasound and you asked me to ask you nearer the time if you wanted to go. You have plenty of time to decide, so you don't have to let me know now..."

Sara leaned forward and gave him a slip of paper with the date and her OB/GYN's address. Grissom took it, glancing at it before he put the paper in his pocket.

"...and two, the other matter. I'm now coming up on fourteen weeks and apparently I'm past the initial miscarriage scare stage."

She held Grissom's gaze steadily as she continued.

"I've decided it's time to tell the others about the baby, before they start speculating about my shrinking clothes and guess for themselves. If they haven't already after the whole store room thing."

Sara paused to see if Grissom had anything to say.

He did, although he chose to ignore the reference to Sara's near fall yesterday. She was in no doubt about his feelings on the matter. Well, some of them, at least.

"What are you going to tell them?"

As usual with Grissom there was more to the question than its face value.

"Not everything, obviously. But I will make it clear that it wasn't a mistake. It was my choice."

There was a moment of silence as the two of them looked at each other. Eventually Grissom stirred, uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts.

"And if they ask you about the father?"

Sara lifted one shoulder dismissively.

"I know who he is. He knows who he is. No-one else's business."

Grissom pursed his lips and tapped them with a couple of fingers. He knew that her apparent flippancy was hiding her true feelings. As usual.

"Are you happy with that?"

Sara frowned. What did he want her to say?

"Happy? It's not like I have a truckload of choices. Sure, I'd like to go in and say, hi guys, guess what? But our – that stuff is private, and until you are ready to go public, I'm not going to say anything. I guess you could say that I'm happy with that."

Grissom's nod was subdued.

He was not happy.

Sara assumed that her 'minute' was over and turned to leave.

"I'm sorry."

Sara turned back at the sound of Grissom's voice.

"What for?"

Grissom glanced past Sara at the door to check that it was still closed.

He sighed, picking up a pencil just for something to do with his hands.

"For everything. For losing my memory. For putting you through this and not being the man you married. I can't be that man, Sara. I don't know him."

Sara recoiled as if she had been slapped.

It took her a long moment to find her voice and regain some calm.

"You are that man. I believe it with all that I am." She eyed him. "Do you trust me?"

Grissom trusted her with his life.

But he could not trust himself with her happiness.

"You know that I do."

Sara returned to the front of his desk and looked at him. She was not giving up yet.

"Then trust yourself. Trust Gil. He figured it out for himself."

Grissom toyed with the pencil in his hands while he thought over what she had suggested.

"And if I can't? If the only thing I figure out is that it was... just sex?"

Sara gave Grissom her trademark grin before turning to leave again.

"Oh, I can assure you that it wasn't 'just sex'."

She turned back at the door, an impish grin in place.

"It was _awesome_ sex!"

The pencil in Grissom's hands snapped in two.

                                           xxxxxxxxxxxx

Catherine glanced up from her magazine as Warrick entered the break room and headed for the fridge.

He took out a bottle of water and joined Catherine at the table. His rueful grin was not lost on her.

"How has it been today?"

Warrick stretched before taking a drink of the water and answering.

"Well, Sara is introspective, Greg is still convinced that his life is over – something about not having changed the coffee, Nicky's waiting for the other boot to fall, and Gil has developed the bladder of a two year old girl. I swear we had to stop five times today. Apart from that, everything's cool."

Catherine smirked as she closed her magazine and looked at her companion. He still had the most fantastic eyes.

"Two year old girl, huh? That must be fun."

"Oh, yeah. Between that and Greg. Whew."

He shook his head.

Warrick had already told Catherine about Grissom's behaviour with Sara in the stock room and now the older woman eyed Warrick, her expression the one she usually had when she came up with a good lead suggestion.

"What?"

Catherine shook her head, not intending to share her thoughts just yet.

If her suspicions were correct, sometime in the very near future, the assignment briefing first thing on the shift could get very interesting.

She tapped the table.

"Watch this space."

TBC


	7. Last Chance 15

Disclaimer: Not my characters, merely taken and shaken.

Author: hazeleyes57

Title: Last Chance Ch. 15

Rating: PG

SPOILER ALERT: Significant Miami CSI development Season 3 ( I think, not having actually seen it).

**Last Chance ** Chapter 15

At the end of the shift, Grissom was grateful to get back home. He was exhausted and desperate for a good 'night's' sleep. He was too tired even to eat, despite the fact that his nausea seemed to have abated for the moment.

He ran himself a bath instead of having a shower, and sighed with pleasure as he sank into the hot water, closing his eyes as he rested his head on the back of the tub.

Despite his tiredness Grissom's thoughts returned again to Sara.

His _wife._

No matter how many times he said it, he still couldn't quite believe it.

His _pregnant_ wife.

It was ironic that the two things that he never thought would ever happen to him actually had happened and he had no memory of it.

Grissom frowned, his eyes still closed. He thought about all the erotic dreams that he had been having with increasing frequency. How much more detailed and knowledgeable they had been than his 'pre accident' ones.

Were these just dreams or were they actually memories?

Sara said to trust himself and think it through.

They had stayed at his cabin. Several of his fantasies had been set at the cabin; perhaps if he tried to imagine her there something might click. If he had been so…so…besotted – he couldn't think of any other adjective that would explain it – they would sooner or later have worked their way around to trying some of them.

Grissom grinned tiredly.

After all, she did say that the sex had been _awesome._

So…the bedroom, that was a given. The shower, maybe? No, he would have stopped before the end, too many accidents in the shower. The hot tub definitely. Major fantasies there, all that epinephrine fuelled misbehaviour. Naked Sara in his tub. Oh yeah. He'd bet that he asked her to go – he stopped himself before he side-tracked away from his inventory. That delicious thought would be on his doughnut schedule later.

Grissom's eyes opened with a puzzled frown.

Doughnut schedule?

Where the hell had that come from?

He searched his thoughts but nothing useful materialised, although he did feel that resonance that he had also experienced with the words 'chalk dust'.

Grissom closed his eyes again and settled deeper in the hot water. This was helping him, he was sure of it.

Supported physically to some extent by the water, he allowed himself to drift mentally, not particularly guiding his thoughts. Within a few minutes he was hardly aware of his body in the tub and was hovering on the edge of sleep.

Sara.

Hot tub.

Hot water.

Washing up.

Sink.

Kitchen table.

The kitchen at the cabin.

In a sudden flash reminiscent of taking a photograph, Grissom saw Sara seated at the table in the kitchen at the cabin. She was smiling the kind of smile that she used when teasing him.

He forced himself not to chase the image. He just remembered the smile and her eyes.

Her lips moved and he could make out her voice.

"Then I guess it's time for bed."

Grissom's eyes opened in shocked surprise and both the image and the voice vanished. He felt the loss keenly.

He sighed in frustration. He knew from bitter experience that it would be no good trying to force the memories, so he tried to distract his attention.

He topped up with more hot water and settled back again.

This time his mind conjured up an image that was all too real.

And bittersweet.

Sara in her bedroom.

Grissom went through every moment of that too short encounter. He cut out the realisation that it had all gone terribly wrong, and just remembered the feel of her in his arms, under his hands, and against his body.

Her lips under his.

Heaven.

Now that he was looking at the scene with the benefit of hindsight, he suddenly realised that he had made a mistake. Several, in fact.

Grissom sat up abruptly, making the bath water swirl violently around him.

He wiped his sweating face with wet hands and wondered what it was about Sara that made him stupid.

Sara said 'you figure it out'.

He had been so busy denying how he fit into the equation that he hadn't really examined how Sara fit into it.

He had even suggested that it was a marriage of convenience.

Grissom shook his head, exasperated.

Sara didn't need a marriage like that. She wasn't a shrinking violet that needed her pregnancy to be cloaked in the respectability of marriage. She had said it herself; 'sure, I'd like to say, 'Hi guys, guess what?' '

Sara hadn't married him because she thought that she had to. She had done so because she wanted to. More of Mrs. Weston's lyrical wedding descriptions filtered through from his phone call with her. How romantic she had thought it was, how happy they had both been.

Both.

Not just him.

Various memories from after the car crash paraded themselves past him, almost as if taunting him with the knowledge of how much he had missed – or chosen not to see.

Right back to the first moments after he had regained consciousness.

The naked concern on Sara's face. How often had he dreamed that she would look at him like that?

'Oh, honey! I was so worried!'

She had leaned towards him, had intended to kiss him.

He knew that he had hurt her when he had recoiled.

Then later she had pointed out that he wasn't the only one suffering.

Little clues here and there in the intervening weeks now leapt out at him.

He'd been so blinded by panic that he was going to lose what little 'relationship' that he had with Sara that he had failed to see what had been obvious all along.

She had married him simply because she loved him.

It was the only explanation.

It was also the most difficult one for him to believe.

Sara had been trying to protect him. Trying to give him the only chance to remember that he might have.

Why else would she have been so distressed about keeping the information from him?

Grissom could see it all from Sara's point of view now. He had been concerned about his difficulties, while she was trying to cope with the loss of her partner – her husband – and a difficult pregnancy. How she had managed to keep it all together without giving in to the temptation to tell him everything he didn't know, but he felt ashamed of his part in it all.

He wiped his face again, then started to wash.

God knows why he was sitting in the tub when he had things to do.

People to see.

He could sleep some other time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grissom left the offices of his lawyer and shaded his eyes against the bright sunlight. The purpose of his visit had been to sign his revised Will, but it had taken longer than expected once he had informed them that he was now married to Sara. Even in Vegas the law took time. The amount they charged, he was in the wrong job.

He looked at his watch and thought that he had better get something to eat.

As soon as he thought of food his stomach flipped uneasily. He patted the pockets of his jacket to see if he had any crackers left. He had discovered that if he had a cracker as soon as the churning started – or even better, before it started – it made the effects much less severe.

Having found one last packet, Grissom finished it by the time he reached his Denali.

As he climbed into the driver's side he glanced at the book on the front passenger seat. He had been truly astonished by the sheer number of books available about pregnancy and he had managed to take over an hour to make his selection; at least it had made the wait for the lawyers a little less onerous.

He wasn't even going to think about the look that the store assistant had given him when he made his purchase. Just because he had a few grey hair didn't put him in his dotage. There was nothing wrong with grey hair – ask any bald man.

Lots of men his age were having a family, or starting a second one. Usually with women that were young enough to be their daughters, admittedly. At least he could say with a reasonably clear conscious that fifteen years wasn't that bad. Not really.

Realising that he was beginning to depress himself, Grissom started the engine and drove home for lunch.

During the drive and after he had arrived at his townhouse, his mind kept going back to Catherine's statement regarding his symptoms. He had not seen any evidence that Sara was suffering unduly with any of the usual pregnancy signs, and to be honest, if she felt the way he had been feeling of late, he didn't think that she would have been able to hide it all the time. He was certainly not able to. But just because he had them and Sara did not, didn't mean that he was suffering 'sympathetic' symptoms.

Grissom had heard about sympathetic pregnancies and one of the reasons he had chosen the book that he had was because it had a small paragraph on the subject. Also known as Couvade syndrome, it was named after the practice of certain peoples whereby the man imitates the behaviour etc, of his pregnant wife, even to the point that he is put to bed at the time of birth.

Well, he wasn't having any of that crap. He would just shake off this viral thing, whatever it was, and he'd be back on top.

Wherever that was.

Grissom was not yet prepared to acknowledge even to himself what having the syndrome could mean – that he had a strong emotional/psychological attachment to Sara.

If he admitted that it was the syndrome he would have to admit in his conscious mind that he loved Sara.

Denial ain't just a river in Africa.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Catherine looked at her email and read it for a third time.

It was from Horatio Caine in Miami.

Asking her if she would be prepared to - temporarily - go and work in Florida, to cover the loss of one of their investigators. The Vegas team had already heard on the grapevine about CSI Speedle, and mourned the loss of a colleague.

Catherine was forcibly reminded just how dangerous their chosen profession could be.

The cover would likely be for only a month while they arranged for a new permanent member of staff.

Catherine was seriously considering taking Caine up on his offer – a month in Miami! – until she remembered Lindsay.

Without Eddie, Catherine was more tied to location with regards to her daughter. Truth be told, Lindsay would probably leap at the chance to go to Miami, but this was one time that she was going to have to be disappointed.

Catherine had started to reply to the email but stopped, suddenly having a brainwave.

A crafty smirk stole over her features.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara looked at the email, then back up to Catherine.

"But he's asking for you."

Catherine gave a breezily dismissive wave of one hand.

"Worked together before, familiar face and name."

She looked at Sara.

"This is ideal for you. It will be good experience and it will only be for a few weeks – you haven't got anything brewing that can't wait a month or so, have you?"

Sara mentally reviewed her clinic appointments and the all important ultrasound scan date.

Her instinctive response had been a flat 'no' to going away – particularly from Grissom at this time. But now she began having second thoughts.

"No, nothing that won't wait until I get back."

Catherine took that as a possible 'yes'.

"Give it some thought and let me know by the end of shift. I'll need to run it by Grissom when he gets back from his scene and also let Horatio Caine know by tomorrow morning."

Sara nodded, returning to her work.

Catherine left the lab and returned to Grissom's empty office where she drafted a reply to her email and prepared the paperwork for Sara's temporary transfer on the basis that it wouldn't hurt to have the papers ready for Grissom to sign. She didn't send the email reply, merely kept it handy for when she heard from Sara.

Back in the lab, Sara had come to a natural break in her work. She had an hour to kill while she waited for some results back from Greg, so it was a convenient time to go and grab some food.

Sitting at the briefing table with her pasta salad, she had one of Catherine's glossy mags spread out in front of her but the latest fashions failed to find a kindred spirit in Sara.

She was still considering her options about Catherine's offer.

She really didn't want to go away from Grissom for long.

Having said that, it might be just what was needed to shake him up.

Give him a new perspective.

Show him what life without Sara might be like.

It would be good for her too. Change of scenery and a change of pace probably. It would be day shift too, and she hadn't done that in a while.

Sara flipped a page of the magazine over, skimming the articles without any real intention of retaining the information. Who really cared which celebrity was pregnant this month? They were all at it.

She gave a lop-sided grin at her thoughts. Since she had found out about her own pregnancy, pregnant women seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.

If she went to Miami it would be in the next couple of days. She wouldn't have to tell the others about the baby until she got back, by which time it would be glaringly obvious anyway. If she were away for a month she would be up to eighteen weeks when she returned. Nearly half way through.

Awesome.

But such a pity that Gill was missing this.

Sara wondered briefly how Grissom was going to take her absence. Catherine may be dealing with the 'paperwork', but it still had to be rubber stamped by the night shift Supervisor.

The luck that she had been having lately, the chances were that he would conveniently forget where the rubber stamp was.

She hoped Catherine had a spare one.

Sara got up from the table and disposed of her rubbish. She was rinsing her mug out when Warrick came in for his 'lunch'. He crossed to the fridge and collected his food.

"Hey, Sara. How's it going?"

Sara glanced at him as she dried off the mug.

"Okay." She nodded. " Just waiting on Greg. You?"

"I'm good. Making progress with the case. I'll be glad when we catch this sicko, I can tell you."

As Warrick had been speaking, Sara had leaned against the counter to reach up and place her mug on the shelf. As she did so, her belly pushed against the unit and she felt as if a bubble of wind had moved from one side to the other and back inside her abdomen. It was such an extraordinarily odd sensation that she gasped aloud and put her hand to her stomach before she could stop herself.

"Sara?"

Warrick was on his feet in an instant.

"Sara? You okay?"

Warrick came over to Sara and put a hand on her shoulder, looking at her hand on her stomach.

Sara didn't answer at first, uncertain as to what to say. She thought that she was okay, but it was several seconds before it dawned on her what had happened.

She laughed with uncertain relief.

Sara had just felt her baby move for the first time.

She turned to Warrick, her eyes shining.

"It's okay, I'm fine. It was nothing. Just wind."

Warrick had one of those moments of sudden clarity where information that collates in your subconscious mind suddenly reaches critical mass and expands into your conscious mind.

Sara was pregnant.

It explained several things, especially that little scene in the supply store.

Sara was pregnant and Grissom knew about it. That's why he hadn't wanted her climbing.

The information in Warrick's brain had been processed in a fraction of a second, and he looked at Sara with perceptive eyes. He noted the gently rounded belly under her hand and a small grin escaped.

"Wind, huh?"

Sara saw and heard the change in Warrick's expression and tone.

What the hell, she didn't mind.

She smirked.

"Yeah. Wind."

Warrick's smile widened.

"Well, congratulations, and if you and 'wind' need the help of a friend, you know my number."

Sara was touched that he had accepted her news without censure and was obviously prepared to keep her news to himself.

"I'll bear that in mind. And…thanks, War."

"Anytime, kiddo."

It didn't occur to Sara until later that Warrick hadn't asked about or even mentioned the baby's father.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grissom returned to his office after having dropped off the samples for processing on the way. He placed his silver coloured case on the floor in the corner by the metal shelving and then turned to his desk. He cast a casual glance over the papers and letters that had been left in his absence, intending to leave them for now and get a drink.

In the same way that you always hear your own name in a crowded room, Sara's name leapt off the page in front of him.

Grissom slowly picked up the piece of paper and read through it.

He swore.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Catherine's cell rang and she put it up to her ear. She immediately pulled it away slightly.

"Ah, you found it already. You're back early. Okay, see you in a few."

She shut her cell, and the amused look that had appeared briefly on her face indicated her private satisfaction with the direction of the conversation.

Insert one bee in one bonnet.

Stand back.

Observe.

God she loved her job.

She looked at Nicky who had been doing a great job of not listening to the conversation. Not.

He was painstakingly piecing together glass from a broken window to establish the direction of impact.

"I have to go see Grissom. We cool?"

Nicky nodded.

"For sure. I'll be some while yet."

He returned to his work as Catherine left the lab.

Catherine walked up the corridor towards Grissom's office. She pondered on the idea of side-tracking to see Sara on the way, let her know that Grissom had seen the papers. That and the whole 'not happy' thing.

If it had been her, she would have appreciated a warning.

Catherine veered off and went to find Sara, last seen in Trace.

Ten minutes later, Grissom looked up from his desk to see Sara enter his office.

He recognised the 'braced for battle' look on her face and made a note to himself to have a word with Catherine about the chain of command.

"Catherine just told me that you have a problem with the Miami thing."

Make that several words.

Grissom removed his glasses to bring Sara back into focus. His voice was as mild as he could make it under the circumstances.

"I don't have a problem with it, I just wish that you had talked to me about it first."

Sara's stance softened slightly.

"I would have if you had been here. Catherine got an email from the Miami lab asking for her, she can't go and showed it to me. I haven't even decided if I was definitely going yet."

Grissom looked at Sara while she was speaking. This was precisely the reason why he thought that it would be bad for them to be having a relationship and working together. She wanted to go to Miami and he wanted her to stay here and not risk any trouble with the pregnancy.

At least he was assuming that she wanted to go to Miami.

"Have you made a decision now?"

Sara looked at him. The great stone face was in place, but it didn't hide as much as it used to before they were married.

He was trying to be impartial, but he didn't want her to go.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she would stay, but she had not replied quickly enough.

Grissom tapped the paper on the desk.

"I think that you should go. It'll be good for you, add to your experience. I'm sure that you'll be careful."

Sara was sure that her mouth had dropped open in surprise as he stood up from the desk and turned to fiddle with something on the shelving behind his chair.

Grissom's tone and stance were dismissive. It didn't matter, she didn't matter. That last little crack about being careful pissed her off too.

Sara took a deep breath and let the air out slowly. Simple contrariness made her want to say that she was going to stay anyway. With effort, she reined in her natural urge to argue.

"So you're happy for me to go to Miami? I have your full blessing?"

Grissom glanced briefly at her before looking away again.

"Mmm? When have you ever need my blessing?"

Sara gritted her teeth. She managed to keep her mouth closed. 'Because now you are my husband you…you…ooh!' She couldn't think of a suitable epithet and that annoyed her even more.

"Right. Fine. I'll go then. As soon as it can be arranged."

Sara didn't wait for a reply; she turned and left the office without another word.

Grissom's head bowed and his shoulders slumped.

She was going and it was his own fault.

He turned and looked at the application form on his desk and in a sudden fit of pique he picked it up and shredded it. It didn't solve anything and it didn't make him feel any better, but he had wanted to do it anyway.

Grissom sighed heavily and pursed his lips. He seated himself at the desk, took out a new form and started to fill it in.

He still felt sick.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara picked up her hand luggage and walked back to the check-in desk for her flight to Miami.

She had said her temporary goodbyes at work yesterday morning, two days after she had left Grissom's office.

Warrick had offered to drive her to the airport and once there had refused to let her carry her own case.

The tall man smiled as Sara approached him. He searched her face.

"You okay?"

Sara gave him a smile of reassurance.

"Fine. We're okay."

Warrick looked her over like a brother checking out that his sister was okay to travel. Now that he had figured out about the pregnancy, it was obvious, even with her loose blouse top over a T.

"Lookin' good."

"Yeah."

The overhead signs informed those that needed to know that the flight was now boarding.

Sara gave Warrick a one armed hug and when they parted she lifted her chin.

"See you."

Warrick gave a one-hand side wave and nodded. He saw Sara look searchingly around the people going to and fro before she went through to her flight.

No prizes for guessing who she was looking for.

Sara found her seat on the plane with no trouble. She stowed her bag and took her seat, put on the belt and read the laminated safety instructions sheet. Bored with that, she put on the seat headset to listen to the radio as the plane started its slow trundle to the runway.

She was very disappointed but not surprised that Grissom had not been at the airport. Some days she thought that she was beginning to get him figured out, then he would throw her another curveball and she didn't know him at all.

But she still loved him. Her husband.

The aircraft noise didn't drown out the music in her ears, so Sara lay back and closed her eyes as the next song started.

__

'I thought I saw a man brought to life, he was warm, he came around like he was dignified. He showed me what it was to cry. Well you couldn't be that man I adored, you don't seem to know or seem to care what your heart is for. I don't know him anymore, there's nothin' where he used to lie, my conversation has run dry, that's what's goin' on, nothin's fine, I'm torn, I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel, I'm cold and - '

Sara tore the plugs out of her ears. The last frigging thing she needed was to start bawling like a baby now. She took deep breaths and willed her tears not to fall.

I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. It's only a month; we can get through this. In sickness and in health. In sickness and in health.

The plane rapidly gained speed and the going got bumpy until suddenly the shaking and rumbling noise ceased as the aircraft left the ground.

Sara summoned up her fighting spirit. Her tears fell anyway and she dashed them aside.

'Okay. You have a month Gil Grissom, and then we're coming to find you. Ready or not.'

Back on the ground Warrick watched until the plane was a small dot in the sky.

"She get away okay?"

Warrick turned without surprise and lifted one eyebrow as he looked at Grissom.

"Yeah."

Grissom also looked at the vanishing speck. He had seen Sara's last look around.

"Good."

Both men turned to leave once the plane was no longer visible.

Warrick had on his best poker face as he glanced sideways at Grissom.

"Congratulations by the way."

TBC.

'Torn' sung by Natalie Imbruglia, lyrics used without permission but with respect from the 'Left of the Middle' album.


	8. Last Chance 16

Disclaimer: Do not own CSI, wishing I had shares, at least!

Author: hazeleyes57

Title: Last Chance (16)

Rating: R

Author's note: Sorry for delay, pesky virus of the cyber not biological sort. Haven't seen any of season five yet, but already not too keen on Sof/phia from just what I've heard.

Last Chance: Chapter 16

Sara looked out of the plane and down at the buildings below her. As the aircraft circled for its final approach into Miami Airport she could make out the famous Art Deco buildings, their soft pastel colours reminding her of candy.

In her pocket she had the email reply from Grissom's opposite number in the Miami lab, Horatio Caine. Sara wondered briefly where Caine had inherited his first name. It all seemed a little nautical, Horatio Hornblower and the Caine mutiny. Maybe they had come from a long line of sailors. One side of Sara's mouth twitched upwards with amusement as she continued to take in the view. Plenty of water around here.

The email had stated that someone from the lab would come out to meet her and take her to the accommodation provided for her stay, then later on after she was settled in, she would be taken out for a meal and shown some of the night life.

Sara had managed to sleep a little on the plane, but was still tired. She hoped that the Miami crowd didn't want to party hard all night.

Catherine had given her the little information that she recalled from her visit, but it wasn't much.

Sara's stomach dropped as the plane began its descent and she hardly noticed the changed note of the engines as they compensated for the altered demand on them.

She wondered what Grissom was doing right this minute. She looked at her watch. Probably having something to eat. He like to cook for her company, he liked to cook for himself, so he probably was still at home. Sara closed her eyes and remembered how Grissom had looked in the townhouse, cooking eggs for breakfast. She hoped that it wouldn't be the last time that he –

Sara's eyes flew open in alarm as she was suddenly thrust down hard in her seat. The high pitched scream of straining engines was all too apparent as the plane abruptly tried to alter its angle of flight from nose down to nose up.

There were cries of surprise and shock from some of the passengers as they all tried to figure out what was happening.

Like others around her, Sara hung on to her armrests as if sheer strength of will would help the pilots.

She closed her eyes and thought of the baby and Gill.

As quickly as the crisis began it was over. The plane levelled out and began to bank into a turn. The passenger address system chimed for everyone's attention a minute or so later. There was a deathly silence.

" Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Captain speaking. We'd like to apologise for the recent shake up. We had to make the decision to abort the landing due to unforeseen circumstances on the ground. We are currently turning to make our approach on an alternate runway. Please remain in your seats with your seatbelts on until we land. Thank you." 

The cheering and cries of relief from the passengers nearly drowned the last words out. Sara felt faint with relief and if she had had to get up and walk at that moment, she doubted that it would have been possible.

She looked out of her window and tried to see what the problem had been with the original runway. There was a plane on the ground and it had the bright yellow inflatable emergency chutes deployed. The fire trucks were in attendance, gathered around the front of the plane, but there was no evidence of a fire visible to her.

She guessed that she would find out later on one of the news channels.

By the time the plane actually landed Sara had recovered sufficiently from the shock and her legs were capable of carrying her through the terminal.

She was still thinking about Gill and their baby as she collected her case. She had to resist the strong urge to get a flight straight back to Vegas…and her husband.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grissom seated himself down on his brown leather sofa and placed his coffee on the table in front of him. He looked at the assorted papers and 'stuff' on the table and moved them slightly to avoid getting any drips on them.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing heavily. He had slept today, but had woken up feeling both sick and groggy. Crackers had sorted the sickness out to some extent, but the lethargy persisted.

Grissom opened his eyes briefly to check what time it was and calculated that Sara must have arrived by now. He wondered if she would telephone to let anyone – okay, specifically him - know that she had arrived safely.

He would give her an hour and if he hadn't heard he would telephone her.

Husbands did that sort of thing.

Grissom's eyes flew open.

He was Sara's husband.

For the first time it actually felt real.

Grissom was worried about her and for her. Sara was on his mind all the time. She intruded into all aspects of his thoughts, private and ordinary alike. There was no peace from her.

But no peace without her.

He had not even spent one night at work with her gone yet and already he was wishing that she were back.

No doubt she would be laughing right now if she had any clue as to his state of mind.

Or perhaps not.

He looked at his watch.

Only another fifty-eight self imposed minutes to go.

Grissom left his coffee cooling on the table and got up, going over to his sound system. He looked through his eclectic assortment of CDs for a few minutes, then picked a couple out for random play. Robbie Robertson was always popular with him and never far from the player. As for the second choice, an instrumental collection that usually made him feel quite mellow.

He hoped that it worked today.

The music filled the townhouse with its mellifluous tones and Grissom did begin to feel a little more relaxed.

He returned to the sofa and picked up his coffee, taking a few sips of the still hot liquid. When his stomach didn't make too much fuss, he settled back in his seat.

Time to decide what – if anything - to do about the 'Warrick' side of things.

He ought not to have been surprised when the other man had offered up his dryly-  
amused congratulations about Sara.

The night shift team was in his opinion the best team around; he would have been disappointed with them for not figuring it out.

Grissom smiled to himself a little grimly. They didn't know the half of it.

He had neither accepted nor refused Warrick's congratulations at the airport, he had merely smiled enigmatically.

Warrick knew as well as he did the old adage 'silence gives assent'.

Now that Grissom had more time to think over that moment, he realised without much surprise that he had enjoyed being identified as the baby's father. Alone now in his home, his lips twisted into a small grin as he recalled the flash of pride that someone – however indirectly – had realised that he and Sara were together.

His smile slipped fractionally.

Or, at least, had been together long enough to get her pregnant.

Grissom moved to sit side on to the sofa's arm, bringing his sock-clad feet up onto the other end of the seat. He shifted about until he was comfortable, then retrieved his coffee.

As he sipped his drink, Grissom thought about how he felt about his forgotten wedding and his beautiful wife. She would have been a stunning bride, he was sure of it. He made a mental note to ask Sara if there were any photographs.

His initial reaction to run for the hills waving divorce papers had been tempered by the simple fact that he still wanted Sara. His only motive for wanting to free her had been that he thought that it was what she wanted. Now he was not so sure about that or the purity of his motives.

Perhaps he was trying to release her so that she wouldn't be the one who decided to leave.

Not for the first time he wondered what had made him finally give in and allow himself to be with Sara.

What had made him overcome his fear?

There had been many moments of introspection since he had met and grown to know Sara Sidle. While she had brought him joy and a new appreciation for life she had also indirectly made him aware of how much that same life was missing. She confounded him, confused him, frustrated him – in more than one sense – and drove him mad.

But what a pleasurable insanity.

He would rather have an hour with her than a lifetime without.

Grissom placed his now empty mug back on the table and yawned suddenly. The music playing softly in the background hardly intruded into his consciousness. He looked at his watch and decided to have a short catnap in the time remaining before he called his wife in Miami.

Another small smile played around Grissom's lips as his eyes closed.

He managed to doze off before the dread 'L' word surfaced in his brain - this time he was lucky.

It seemed to Grissom that only a few minutes had passed when he was woken by the sound of his phone. When he checked the time he was surprised to see that an hour had passed. He hurried to answer the cell, finally managing to get it to his ear.

"Grissom."

The sound of Catherine's voice was unexpected – he had been almost certain that it would be Sara calling.

"You might want to turn on to the news channel if you haven't already. There's some excitement in Miami. Call me if you need anything."

The line went dead as Grissom looked at the cell with incomprehension. What?

The penny dropped and he hurriedly found the remote control and switched on the television. It was already set to a news channel and the first thing that he saw was a jet with its emergency chutes deployed. The female reporter's voiceover was replaced by her live image, showing the plane behind her. Icy fingers of fear clutched Grissom as he turned up the volume.

'…as you can plainly see the undercarriage at the front of the plane has collapsed either just before or during touchdown, causing significant damage to both the plane and the runway. Other planes were diverted as soon as airtraffic staff realised what had happened, and several hundred people had a very lucky escape on the flight due to land immediately after this one. The pilot managed to abort the landing and divert to a secondary runway, where no serious injuries were reported. Miraculously only a handful of people – including a pregnant woman - were injured sufficiently to be admitted to hospital; they appear to be suffering from injuries sustained during the evacuation of the plane and not the initial incident.'

The woman went on with further details including the flight numbers involved but by then Grissom had taken a note of the telephone number for people who were concerned to ring. He had his cell out in a moment and dialled the number.

It was busy.

Grissom spent an agonising twenty minutes trying to get through, his mind conjuring up terrible fates that could have befallen Sara. Just when he thought that he would burst he finally managed to get a ring tone. By this time he was pacing back and forth in agitation. Finally someone picked up.

Grissom gave the man on the phone Sara's flight number, her name, and his relationship to her after which the voice asked him to hold for a moment while he checked the passenger list.

A few interminable moments later the man returned.

" Sara Sidle doesn't appear to be on any of our lists. Are you sure that she was on that flight?"

"Yes, I saw her board with my own eyes."

Grissom thought hard for a minute. An idea popped in out of the blue. Would she?

She might have.

"Would you check again please, this time for Sara Grissom."

"It is unusual - "

A terse Grissom interrupted him.

"We haven't been married long, I wasn't sure which name she was using."

"Sorry Sir, I'll get right back to you."

More silence and Grissom sat down on the couch, his stomach churning.

The man was quicker this time.

"Yes, we have Sara Grissom listed. She did not require medical treatment and was collected from the airport. I should think that you'll be hearing from her quite soon."

Grissom nodded even though he could not be seen. He was choked with relief.

Eventually he found his voice.

"Yes. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm pleased that it's good news. You have a nice day."

The man hung up before Grissom could reply. He obviously knew that many people would be attempting to phone in. Grissom hung up blindly.

He rubbed his face with both hands, pressing hard as if to offset the pain of reaction and relief. Thank God Sara was safe. He felt shaky and nauseous.

Very nauseous.

He only just made it to the bathroom. As he braced one arm on the edge of the bowl, he lost his last meal and the coffee. When he had finally stopped retching, he wet and rung out his face cloth, using it to wipe his streaming eyes.

Grissom leaned back against the side of the bathtub with both his hands holding the facecloth to his forehead and his arms resting on his bent knees.

He was astonished at the strength of his reaction, his profound relief that he had not lost the woman that he…that he…

He looked up and closed his eyes in supplication.

"Okay, you win."

He smiled, then started laughing quietly, shaking his head with the irony of it all.

Sitting on the floor of his bathroom was the last place Grissom thought he'd be when he finally admitted to himself that he loved Sara.

He felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and a peace settled over him. The thing that he had been so concerned about was not so bad after all. In fact, it felt pretty damn good.

Why the hell had he waited so long?

Grissom's cell interrupted his thoughts as he got to his feet and he hurried into the main room to answer it.

"Sara?"

"It's me, Warrick. Sara just called me to call you and tell you to hang up. She's trying to get through and both your phones are apparently busy."

Warrick was seated in front of his own TV watching the news unfold. He was smiling to himself over the original unedited message that Sara had left with him before she hung up.

'Tell the old man to get the hell off the cell and fix his housephone. They're both busy!'

Grissom knew that Warrick would be able to hear the relief in his voice, but he didn't care.

"Thanks, I'll check it. The landline must have been knocked off the cradle."

He moved across the room to his house phone and righted the handset.

"Yes, it was off. Good call."

"Hey, man it's no problem. Anytime. Good luck."

Warrick sounded amused. They both knew what Sara was like when she was ticked.

"Thank you."

Grissom's voice was dry as he ended the call and hung up.

He had only got as far as the kitchen bar before his cellphone rang.

He snatched it up and opened it impatiently.

"Sara?"

"Gee, Gris, anyone would think that ya missed me."

Grissom held the phone to his bowed head and allowed Sara's amused voice to wash over him. It was reassuring to hear her and he had never been so grateful as he was at this moment that he had had his operation.

"You still there?"

Sara's question wasn't so amused now, and Grissom heard the concern.

"I did. I do."

"What?"

"Never mind. You okay?"

"A little shook up is all, I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

Even miles away across the country Sara heard his real question.

"The baby is fine too."

Sara paused briefly, then added,

"How are you holding up?"

"Better. I'm…better."

Grissom knew that his answer had sounded lame, but he suddenly realised that he couldn't tell Sara how he felt over the phone. He wanted to tell her in person and see her face, see her real response. Unfortunately this also meant that he would probably have to wait until she returned from Miami.

One month suddenly seemed a long time.

" I forgot to ask, where are you staying? I understand that you were collected at the airport."

Miles away, Sara puzzled a little over the abrupt change in Grissom's tone. She really wished that she could see his face. Instead she looked around the room that she was in.

"Actually, I'm staying with the person who collected me. Calleigh Duquesne. Smart and blond. You'd like her."

Sara had liked her from the first at the airport. It had been quite unlike her first meeting with Catherine.

"So long as you're okay. Will you…um, would you telephone me and let me know how you get on in the lab?"

Sara frowned at Grissom's request. Was he attempting to keep in regular contact?

Whatever it was, it got her blessing.

"Ah, sure. Sure, I'll call you tomorrow. You want I should call you at work?"

Grissom hesitated, absently moving a small bowl on the worktop, then moving it back again to its original place.

"It'd be better at home, less interruptions."

Sara smirked, but was careful not to sound too keen.

" 'kay, at home. Have you got a pen? This is the direct number for the lab in case you, y'know, need anything."

She gave him the telephone number and listened to him read it back.

Sara was about to say her goodbyes, when Grissom surprised her again.

"If the invitation is still open I'd like to come with you for your ultrasound."

Sara clapped her hand to her mouth to stop her shout of excitement from escaping.

After a long moment - that seemed an aeon to Grissom – Sara replied carefully, but with approval.

"That would be great. I'd like that."

"Good."

Grissom didn't know what else to add that wouldn't give the game away. What would the 'old' Grissom have said?

"Bye Sara."

"Bye…"

Sara heard him hang up and she smiled as she added,

"…Honey."

Sara was still looking down at her cellphone when Calleigh knocked and popped her head around the bedroom door.

"All done?"

Sara nodded, putting her cell away. Calleigh smiled sweetly.

"Well okay then. The guys at work have got a little 'hello' lined up, so if you're ready we'll go. There may be cake."

"Cool, I always have time for cake."

Calleigh looked Sara up and down with a grin.

"You'd never know it honey. And don't worry, there won't be any alcohol."

Sara raised one eyebrow.

"Because they're at work?"

Calleigh smile unrepentantly.

"That too, but mainly because I told them that you're a mama to be."

"You noticed." Sara observed. "I didn't realise that it was that obvious."

"It isn't particularly. But when you came through the terminal to collect your cases after that unorthodox landing, you had both hands in front, like so. Protecting something precious."

Sara couldn't take offence at Calleigh's matter of fact manner, and she wasn't concerned about them knowing that she was pregnant.

"I'm impressed."

The two women moved through the house and out to the blond CSI's car.

"So how has the papa taken it that you're here and he's in Vegas?"

"As well as can be expected."

"Don't worry, he'll be appreciatin' you all the more when you get back."

"I hope so."

Calleigh unlocked her car by remote.

Sara admired the sleek vehicle all over again. At the airport she had admired the car out loud. Calleigh had made her grin when she drawled,

"Honey, I just love a good ride."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two weeks later.

Sara tried not to allow the dismay that she was feeling to show on her face.

Horatio Caine was adept enough in human nature and reading expressions that she needn't have bothered.

"I'm sorry, Sara, but it's just not possible until next week. We are still short of staff with two unwell."

Sara nodded jerkily.

"I understand. Thanks for trying, anyhow."

Sara left Caine's office and returned to the lab. Although she had been here two weeks now, the modern construction usually never failed to amaze her, but today she was distracted and just seated herself at the workstation and got back to work.

She had hoped that she could arrange her shift to allow a long weekend off to return to Vegas for the weekend, but now that was impossible.

She looked at her watch and calculated Vegas time. She had been hoping to surprise Grissom with a flying visit. Over the last two weeks they had talked on the telephone every few days, and Sara had the distinct impression that 'things' were what her dad would have called 'developing'.

Sara sighed and shifted on her seat. Her lab coat pulled across her belly and she shifted again to release it with a tug. Their 'relationship' wasn't the only thing developing. She had moved beyond 'is she having weight issues' to 'definitely pregnant'.

She was less than thrilled with the fact that complete strangers now thought that her pregnancy was public property and asked questions that she considered to be none of their business. Thankfully no one at work had made that mistake.

Sara made a mental note of the time that she should call Grissom then returned to her work.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On her way out of the building to go home at the end of shift, Catherine realised that Grissom had not left yet. She stood unnoticed in the doorway of his office and looked him over. His colour was improving but he still looked tired. He was frowning again. She sighed silently. Time for another proverbial shove in the right direction.

"Hey, Gris."

As she announced her presence, Grissom looked up.

"Hey."

If that response had been her daughter she would have interpreted it as 'grumpy'.

As it was Grissom, she would have to say…grumpy. She hid a smile.

"C'mon, spill."

Grissom gave her a blank look. As far as he understood Catherine didn't know that Sara wasn't coming back yet. He had only found out the day before yesterday.

Catherine snorted and put her free hand on her hip.

"You have been up and down like a bear with a yo-yo for the last two weeks. None of us know where we are with you. I've figured it out even if you haven't."

"Catherine…"

Grissom's warning growl fell on deaf ears.

She waved a hand in the air for emphasis.

"I don't believe you! Wake up and smell the roses! For God sake put the rest of us out of our misery. Go get her, bring her back. You miss her. It's obvious what's happening."

"What are you - "

Catherine glared as she interrupted him a second time. She didn't seem fazed by the fact that her voice was raised or that the door was ajar.

"DON'T give me that innocent crap! You know it, I know it, the whole night shift knows it, hell, the janitor who works in the next building probably knows it."

Grissom put down his pen carefully and looked back up to Catherine. His gaze flicked very briefly to a point behind her but she didn't notice.

" 'It'?"

Grissom's enquiry was surprisingly mild considering that he was wondering if Catherine was referring to Sara's pregnancy.

"God, do I have to spell it out for you?"

Grissom leaned back in his seat in a very relaxed fashion.

"Please do. I'm all ears."

Catherine gave him a double take. Was he amused?

She recovered quickly.

"I've known you for a long time and I never thought you stupid until now. Sara loves you and always will. If you don't do something about it now, you're throwing away something that most men only dream about. You love her. Have done for ages. You can't try to hide it forever."

Grissom didn't agree or disagree, just looked at her with a tiny smirk. It wasn't so much him who wouldn't be able to hide 'it'.

He folded his arms, tipped his head slightly and looked thoughtful.

"Let me get this straight. You are encouraging me to foster a relationship between myself and another member of staff, a younger person with a less senior grade?"

"I guess that I am."

"You think that there is no problem with two work colleagues getting together?"

"Nope."

"So even though I have told you in the past that it's not a good idea, you think that it would work?"

"Yes. Under the right circumstances. And these are the right ones. Jeez, Gil, four years of foreplay is enough for any woman."

Grissom smiled as he stood up and moved around his desk. The words 'barn door', 'horse' and 'bolted' came to mind.

"Thank you Dr Ruth. I'll take that information under advisement."

Grissom nodded towards the office door.

"In the meanwhile, you might want to discuss the finer points of that subject with your colleague."

Catherine's head jerked around and her gaze landed squarely on Warrick standing just inside the doorway.

He looked resolute.

He wasn't going anywhere until he and Catherine had talked. Really talked.

Warrick had spent the last week or so deciding whether or not to approach Catherine. When he had first heard her raised voice coming from Grissom's office he had naturally paused, prepared to assist if needed.

Now Grissom had dropped the ball into his hands and it was time to run with it or quit.

His Grandma didn't raise no quitter.

"Warrick?"

Catherine sounded just the smallest bit uncertain and in such a confident woman, it was all the encouragement that he needed. He stepped further into the office.

Neither of them noticed Grissom leave and quietly close the door behind him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As Grissom drove home he thought about Catherine's comments. She was a perspicacious woman, if she said that 'everyone' knew about this 'thing' between him and Sara, then there was no point being concerned about discovery. Some people had the impression that he was 'shy' because he was quiet when considered in comparison with other people in his position. He wasn't shy at all, merely private. His marriage was no ones business but his own.

And Sara's, of course.

The powers that be at work couldn't do anything to either of them now that they were married. If they tried to make things difficult for Sara, well, then he would leave. He had never been keen to play the political role that the Supervisor's post required of him. He could take up teaching and consultancy work.

Grissom pulled up in his parking space and turned off the Denali's engine.

Entering his townhouse, Grissom crossed to the table and emptied his pockets of loose change, bits of paper, billfold, individual packets of crackers and keys.

While he wasn't requiring his full attention on what he was doing, he thought about the look on Catherine's face when she had seen Warrick standing in the doorway. She had instantly recapped their conversation and realised that he – Gil – had paved the way for the two of them. That combination of hope and fear had been a familiar look on Sara's face too. He hoped that the situation between Warrick and Catherine worked out. Warrick needed someone strong to help him stay on the straight and narrow with his gambling, and Catherine needed someone genuine and kind.

About time too.

Going through his mental 'to do' list he checked his emails. There were several, including one from his mother. He realised with a guilty start that he had better tell her about Sara and their marriage.

And the fact that she was going to be a Grandma soon.

Grissom spent several minutes trying to find a suitable way of presenting his mother with the salient facts about his marriage, only to give up in the end. As he was not due back in work for three days he could do it later. For the first time ever the time stretched endlessly out in front of him. It was a pity that Sara would not be back for a visit, he had hoped…

Half an hour later, Grissom was in the shower. He lathered himself over his chest and had just started down one arm when he froze.

He was an idiot.

He hurriedly finished washing and rinsed off. He towelled himself dry and slung the damp towel around his shoulders to dry his hair as he strode naked through his house to the table with his pocket's detritus.

Grissom dug out his credit card and looked up a number in the telephone book for the Vegas area.

He returned to the bedroom and seated himself on the edge of the bed, picked up the telephone and dialled.

If he had half a brain he would be gifted.

"Yes, hello. When is the next available flight to Miami?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Horatio Caine stepped out into the glass walled atrium near his office and turned to greet the man waiting there. He smiled pleasantly as they shook hands and exchanged greetings. 

"Thank you for allowing us to borrow your colleague at this time. She's hard working and has been a credit to your department. We'll be sorry to see her go."

Grissom didn't doubt Caine's sincerity but it took him a long moment to overcome his urge to declare that Sara wasn't staying, no matter what.

Instead he inclined his head in agreement.

Behind him the elevator doors opened unnoticed and Sara stepped out.

Even from the back view Sara recognised Grissom. Her heart jolted in excitement as she headed towards the two men.

Beyond Grissom's shoulder, Caine saw the flash of joy on Sara's face.

So that was the way it is, he mused. An imp of mischief made him enquire.

" So what brings you out this way?"

Before Grissom had chance to answer, Sara came up behind him and placed a hand on his arm.

"Hey, Grissom."

Grissom turned to include her. He smiled in greeting, his gaze automatically taking in her altered appearance with an unexpected flash of male pride. He savoured the warmth of her hand on his arm and the knowledge that for now, at least, she was his.

As he was hers.

He turned back to face Caine.

"Actually I'm here to see my wife."

Grissom felt the hand jerk on his arm. He looked at Sara's stunned expression with amusement.

Caine looked from one to the other and privately wondered what was going on. No wonder that she had wanted to go home for a long weekend.

However, it was none of his business.

"I see. I'm sorry, I didn't realise. Congratulations. On both counts."

He turned a suspiciously innocent expression to the both of them, then looked at Sara.

"I'll tell Calleigh that you don't need a ride tonight."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The drive to the hotel that Grissom had booked into was both short and quiet.

Sara was torn between her desire to know what was going on and her reluctance to have her expectations shot down again. The fact that Grissom was here at all was more than she had ever hoped.

Grissom didn't want to start the ball rolling until he could follow the ball to the end of the road.

As soon as the door of the room had closed behind them, Sara turned to Grissom to ask her first question. She was taken aback by the smile he gave her.

It was Gil's.

Grissom saw her face light up as she closed the gap between them.

"You've remembered?"

He shook his head, but still took hold of her hands, his thumbs massaging the backs of them. He felt her shiver and hoped that it was with excitement.

He took a long moment to absorb her features. How could he have forgotten this?

"Grissom?"

He shook himself and placed a gentle finger on Sara's lips.

"A deeply religious man sits on the roof of his house, floodwaters rising around him. He is unafraid because he knows that God will save him. After a while, a small boat arrives at the roof, but the man refuses their help, saying that God will save him. The water rises and a helicopter arrives. Again the man refuses to be rescued, telling them that God will save him. They leave, the water rises and the man drowns."

Sara watched Grissom without speaking. She was not sure where he was going with the joke. If that's what it was.

"The man arrives in Heaven and he's standing before God. 'Why didn't you save me?' he asks, and God replies, ' I sent a boat and a helicopter, what more did you want?'"

Sara smiled in uncertain puzzlement. She had heard the joke before, so why tell it now?

Her heart skipped a beat as the implications sank in. She tried to keep her expression neutral – she didn't want to scare him off.

Grissom could see that further explanation was required. Unusual for her.

He moved closer to Sara and put a hand to her hair. Quite without conscious thought her head leaned into his touch and her eyelids drifted closed.

They opened again when he spoke.

"It's about recognising the gift that you are given. I've been blessed with another chance and I'm not about to let that gift go a second time. I may never recall all of my memories, and although that pains me deeply, particularly the loss of our wedding, I hope that we can create some new memories that are just as wonderful. I'm hoping that it wasn't my last chance at happiness, because I have finally recognised the gift that I had all along."

Grissom looked into Sara's eyes. What he saw there encouraged him to continue.

"I'm not perfect, and at some point I'll let you down because I can get lost in the work. I might not have the words to put it right but I'll expect you to just know."

Sara smiled tremulously and it was her turn to place a finger on Grissom's lips. He could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes and hear the effort in her voice.

"It seems to me that you're doing just fine. I have something to say too…"

She stepped forward and Grissom's arms closed around her as her hands slid up to link up behind his neck. One of his eyebrows went up in enquiry.

"…shut up and kiss me."

Grissom's other eyebrow went up in apparent surprise.

"Is it safe to do that?"

Sara growled under her breath but loud enough for Grissom to hear.

"You wanna see how unsafe it's gonna be for you if you don't?"

Grissom smirked as he eyed Sara's lips.

"Promises promises."

"You should be - "

Sara's response was cut off mid sentence by Grissom's lips on her own.

At long last was her immediate thought as she revelled in the familiar and oh so welcome sensations rushing through her body.

For Grissom the kiss was a glorious adjunct to the ones he shared in Sara's apartment when he had pinned her to the wall with his body. The soft and pliant lips moulded to his as if made just for them. As he moved against her he marvelled at the response she had drawn from him with just a simple kiss.

He realised too late that there was no such thing as a simple kiss with Sara. The briefest touch lit a flame throughout his body that commanded his attention and demanded a reaction.

The chemistry between them was the same as before: instant heat, explosive need. His mouth became hard and greedy.

Sara's skin flushed as her blood heated and her skin tingled all over. She forgot about everything else except this driving need to possess.

Grissom barely heard Sara's soft moans over the roaring in his ears. His arms pulled her even closer, crushing her body to his even as she pulled him to hers. Sara's mouth opened under his and their tongues met and teased, tested and tormented.

Grissom's body began to ache and swell, reacting to the press of Sara's hands over and against him. He couldn't seem to get close enough to her and he vividly remembered feeling the same way at her apartment. This time there was more between them – literally – and a tiny almost unheard voice reigned him in slightly and stopped him from unleashing the full force of his passion.

But there was passion enough as Grissom's lips left Sara's and travelled to her neck. Her head tilted back to give him better access and he took full advantage.

Sara's hands hesitated in the gathering of fistfuls of Grissom's shirt as she was distracted by the little kissing nips on her throat. Her legs felt weak and incapable of supporting her weight. She clung onto him and squirmed up against his arousal.

Grissom was barely supporting himself let alone Sara, so he held back a little until she had surfaced sufficiently to be aware of his intentions.

As soon as he had her conscious attention he bent slightly and swung her up into his arms. She hung on and grinned as he carried her over to the big double bed.

Almost reverentially he lowered Sara onto the bed and her smile stayed in place even when he didn't join her, but straightened up instead.

He stood for a moment looking down at her and the evidence of their child, almost as if he couldn't believe his eyes or his temerity.

"You are every dream of beauty that I ever had."

Sara resisted the impulse to say that he should get out more. She knew from the time that they had together at his cabin that she used the knee-jerk humour response when she was so touched that she had no other answer. This time, she smiled in acceptance and reached out for one of his hands.

"You make me feel beautiful, whatever I look like."

Grissom smiled gently and moved to the foot of the bed. He removed Sara's shoes and socks and put them aside. He removed his own footwear too, then climbed on the bed beside Sara.

He lay on his left side, facing Sara; his head propped on his left fist. He reached out with his right hand to touch her face, his fingers tracing an eyebrow, then down to her parted lips.

"I want to do this right, but I'm not sure that I have the control required not to rush this."

Grissom's low voice sent shivers of delight down Sara's spine.

She smirked.

Rushing was fine by her.

"If you had any idea how hard it is for me to lay here and not pounce on you and rip your clothes off, you wouldn't be concerned. Go ahead – rush me!"

Grissom needed no further encouragement. Sara saw the smile break out briefly before his head descended to hers.

This time his kiss was a full-bodied assault on her senses, taking over her body and her mind.

Grissom leaned into the kiss, pushing Sara onto her back and following her down. He felt her arms come up around his neck.

He proceeded to show her exactly what she meant to him in the only way that he could, with his body but not the words.

The reached the peak almost simultaneously, Grissom ensuring Sara's pleasure before his own.Finally they lay spent in each other's arms.

Grissom raised himself up on his left elbow and looked down at Sara with an expression that combined concern, amazement and tenderness.

"You okay? I mean, I didn't hurt you, or - "

Sara reached up and pressed a finger to Grissom's lips. She felt languid and boneless.

" Shh. I'm fine. So very fine that I'm wallowing in bliss. Give me a moment to stop seeing stars."

Grissom gave a bashful/smug smirk and took Sara's left hand in his right, intertwining their fingers. He kissed her fingers one by one, then leaned forward and kissed her, the kiss lazy and indulgent. He gave an idle thrust inside her, still half hard despite his climax. There was so much lost time to make up and he was willing if Sara was.

He lifted his head to see how she felt about it.

He was rewarded with a lazy grin.

Grissom thrust again, becoming more aroused.

Sara gasped.

"I see you still have trouble locating your 'off' switch."

Grissom, straight-faced, pulled back as if to withdraw.

Sara grabbed him around the neck with her right hand and tugged him back down to her. Just before their lips met she grinned.

"I didn't say that I minded!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Do you want me to come out to the airport?"

Sara's question was a rude awakening to a reality that Grissom would rather have not returned to. His two-day escape had come to an end all too quickly.

He kept his lips closed over his plea for her to return home with him.

His silence appeared to Sara to be answer enough, but she waited for the words to come.

Grissom looked across the small café table and took hold of one of Sara's hands in his own.

He examined her palm and gently traced across it with a finger. He felt her shiver and inwardly smiled, knowing for certain this time that it was excitement.

"Grissom?"

The side of his mouth quirked upwards.

"Procrastination is not the sole province of women you know."

Sara rolled her eyes as if in exasperation, but did not try to remove her hand from his. Anything that delayed his departure was fine by her.

"You would only have to come back here by taxi again, and while Caine has been generous enough to allow you have two days off, you should be back in the lab this morning, not at the airport with me."

Sara smirked, but her eyes shone with unshed tears.

"I can't believe I'm saying it, but I don't care. I want to be with you. Every last moment that I can."

Grissom squeezed her hand, and felt her squeeze back.

"I know. But it's only for one week, then we'll be together as much as you want."

As Grissom listened to Sara's reluctant acquiescence, he was mentally adding the rest of his sentence.

'but not as much as I want.' 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grissom had taken Sara back to his hotel, where they made love with a desperation that shocked them both with its fervency.

Afterwards, he took Sara back to Calleigh's place. He carried Sara's overnight case back to her room for her, and turned to say good bye.

Sara stepped into his arms and gave him a kiss that still had the power to curl his toes – as well as straighten other parts - even though they had been together only an hour earlier.

When they finally came up for air, Sara backed deliberately out of his arms and Grissom could see the effort it cost her to smile.

"That's a reminder. So don't go banging your head this time."

"I'll try not to."

Grissom raised his right hand to Sara's head, running it gently over her silky hair. He searched her face as if trying to memorise every inch of it.

He trailed the fingers down her face, until the ball of his thumb pulled at Sara's kiss-  
swollen bottom lip. Regret made his voice thick.

"I have to go." I want to stay.

"Call me when you get in?" Take me with you.

"Of course." You have to ask?

"Safe journey." Please don't go!

They had walked to Calleigh's front door and Grissom opened it to bright sunshine. He shaded his eyes and looked at Sara.

"One week - no time at all."

It was not clear whom he was attempting to reassure.

Sara just smiled at him, not willing to let their last conversation for the moment end in disagreement.

It was all she could do not to tell him how much she loved him. She rested one hand on her belly, unconsciously seeking the comfort of another's presence.

Without hesitation Grissom put his hand on top of hers.

He leaned forward and kissed Sara hard on the lips.

Reluctantly, he turned and walked to the waiting taxi. He gave Sara a single wave before getting in.

Sara watched as the vehicle pulled away, unaware that both she and Grissom shared the same thought.

It would seem like an eternity.

Despite the incredible two days he had spent with Sara, Grissom's expression was bleak as he was taken to the airport. He had not said all that he needed to say, but he thought that he had made it clear to Sara how he felt about her.

But not once during the last two days had Sara told him that she loved him.

TBC 


	9. Last Chance 17

Disclaimer: CSI is a trademarked product. Characters used without permission. Boy was it fun.

Title: Last Chance, chapter 17

Author: hazeleyes57

Rating: R version, big bit missing! NC17 version up on adult fan fiction site and Moggie's new site.

A/N: Many thanks for the reviews, comments and emails. A writer is nothing without readers.

**Last Chance** Chapter 17

Sara breathed a sigh of relief when her second case appeared on the carousel. The cases were being disgorged with scant regard to the fragility of their contents and she was grateful that she had put her few souvenirs from Miami in her hand luggage.

She was tired and hot, and what she wanted right now was to get to her apartment and have a long soak in the tub. Her case made its slow way towards Sara, but just as she was about to reach out for it, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. Surprised, she straightened up just as a familiar voice behind her said,

"Allow me."

"Gris!"

Sara didn't bother to hide her pleasure at seeing Grissom. He looked very presentable in a sapphire blue T with grey chino pants. Even more than presentable, he looked deliciously edible. She watched him grab her case and put it on the floor at his feet, beside her other one. Hell, just one taste wouldn't hurt. Grissom straightened up and suddenly found himself with both arms full of Sara as she hugged him tight. He responded after a brief moment of surprise about how different she felt to hold, a smile that she couldn't see on his face. He had been uncertain of his reception after the weekend they had spent together in Miami. He breathed in the scent of her, his eyes closing in pleasure. His head rested on the silkiness of Sara's hair and he was instantly transported back to his hotel room in Miami. Lying beside Sara, her head close to his as he held her while she slept. It had been a long week without her.

"I missed you."

Grissom's quiet voice was muffled, but Sara heard him perfectly, her heart squeezing in joy.

"Not as much as I've missed you."

The hug went on, exceeding the time usually accepted for such greetings. Neither of them wanted to let go. They were finally parted when an irate man trying to collect his own case jostled them. They both looked blankly at the man, then at each other as if neither one could believe that the other was really there at last.

"Good to have you…back."

Sara's eyes flew to Grissom's. The merest pause that he had added had made the common phrase have an entirely different meaning. She grinned again, and this time she leaned in for a kiss, hoping that she wouldn't be rebuffed, but concerned that her failure to admit that she loved him the last time they were together might have spoiled things.

She needn't have worried, Grissom more than met her half way. He was, until that moment, half convinced that he had dreamt all about his visit to Miami, but the feel of Sara's lips on his own was wonderfully familiar. And just as amazing as he recalled. Neither of them knew how long the kiss would have gone on if they had not been again interrupted, this time by someone closer to home.

"What was that?"

Grissom was startled by the small prod to his stomach, and he looked down between Sara and himself in astonishment. Sara grinned.

"My guess it was an elbow, but it could have been a knee. Maybe he/she wants to say 'Hi'. Or 'stop squeezing me', or whatever."

Grissom released Sara as if she were on fire, his expression horrified and apologetic.

"God, I'm sorry, was I hurting you?"

Sara smiled gently, mindful of Grissom's concern.

"No, we're fine. The baby moves around a lot. Usually responds to pressure with a kick or whatever."

Grissom continued to look at Sara's rounded tummy with the kind of interest he usually reserved for his bugs. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that they were still standing in a public place. He started to reach out, but hesitated. He looked up to Sara for permission, one eyebrow raised in query. She was pleased both with his interest and the fact that he didn't take it for granted that 'the bump' was public property. She took the proffered hand and rested the palm against her. Grissom felt nothing for a moment until Sara pressed harder. As if in response he felt a small nudge against his hand. Sara saw him grin and shake his head.

"What?"

"I had no idea. I thought it would only be later that we could feel…anything."

Sara grinned.

"You should feel it from this side. Any gymnasts in your family?"

Grissom huffed in amusement as he bent to pick up Sara's cases.

"Not yet."

He began walking in the direction of the parked Denali.

"I've parked this way. You okay for a walk?"

Sara nodded.

"So long as we go via the toilets. I have to go again."

Grissom grimaced with true empathy.

"TELL me about it."

They set off again, with Sara laughing as Grissom ruefully described some of his bizarre health problems of late.

When they got to the Denali, Grissom unlocked the vehicle and hovered around to assist Sara, but she climbed in easily and looked askance at him for being on the wrong side of the SUV.

Grissom mentally shrugged and walked around to the driver's side.

They had been driving for a few minutes when Sara frowned as she looked outside.

"Where are we going? I need to get some groceries."

Grissom glanced at her, then back to the road.

"I…um, took the liberty of stocking up for your return. I thought that you might be tired after your flight."

Sara looked surprised. How did he…? She frowned. Her brow cleared. She looked at Grissom.

"Warrick gave up my key?"

"Eventually."

Grissom's voice was dry. It had taken about three seconds. Warrick had practically shoved it into his hands. He had other matters on his mind these days. Grissom smiled inwardly as he thought of Catherine and Warrick. They, too, were trying to keep their fledgling relationship quiet, but it seemed obvious to him that the two of them were involved, and if he had noticed, others were bound to.

"You water the plants too?"

Grissom threw her a sideways glance again. This was a trick question.

"Plant. Singular. And yes, I did. Warrick briefed me thoroughly on my apartment-watching duties."

The fact that Warrick had made Sara sound a lot like the character Monica from a certain show about thirty-something's and their friendships was information Grissom planned to take to his grave.

"Good." Sara faced Grissom, visually tracing his profile and longing to touch him again. "I would have been very upset if anything had happened to that plant. It was the one that you sent me."

Grissom didn't say anything but Sara could tell that he remembered. She shifted around in her seat to face him, loosening her belt a little. She had the distinct impression that he was thinking about the plant.

"You never did explain why you had sent it. I presume that 'it' worked, whatever it was."

At her words, Sara was surprised to see that Grissom looked distinctly uncomfortable. She kept her smirk out of sight, hoping to learn something. After a long silence Grissom sighed. He was reluctant to admit that he had been discussing Sara, especially as it had been some time ago.

"To cut a long story short, Catherine told me that I need to take my head out of the microscope and look around me. To see that I was part of the lab family and realise what I might be missing. It made me think, made me acknowledge something that I hadn't allowed myself to see. Your request for a leave of absence shook me. I didn't know what to do. Catherine made me realise that I had to do something."

Sara was surprised that it had been Catherine that had given him the heads up. She had no idea that she had Catherine's tacit approval.

"So you sent the plant. With that effusive note."

Grissom was relieved that Sara sounded amused.

"The flower shop asked me what the 'sentiment' was. I couldn't put what I wanted to, and Catherine was still within earshot. It was the best I could come up with at the time."

Sara took pity on him and patted his thigh in consolation. She left her hand resting there afterwards.

"It was enough."

They drove in companionable silence for a few minutes; Sara content with her hand resting on Grissom's thigh and him happy for it to be there, even if it did mean the journey was not getting one hundred percent of his attention.

"So, how was the last week in Miami?"

"Too long. How was it here?"

"Longer."

Grissom passed a couple of slow moving vehicles and Sara let him concentrate.

"Talya from Records upstairs, she had her baby yet?"

"She's pregnant?"

"Only about nine and a half months by now! Ha, some CSI you are."

Sara scoffed in an undignified manner and Grissom endured it with grace. He had been a little distracted for the last couple of weeks and work had required more than its fair share of his concentration.

"With one of my CSI's sunning herself in Florida for a month we have been a little busy."

Sara looked at him but he looked forward. She could see his telltale twitch of amusement.

"Ahuh. So, Mr. Observant, how are the gang at work? Nick, Greggo, Catherine and Warr?"

Grissom wondered whether her pairing of the latter two was significant. He had not told Sara about the new couple yet. His tone was guarded when he replied.

"They're okay. Why?"

Sara looked at him strangely.

"No reason, just catching up, you know."

Grissom was spared having to reply by the timely arrival at Sara's apartment. As he pulled on the parking brake he looked around the SUV. Sara looked at him with curiosity.

"What are you looking for?"

Grissom looked at her blankly for a moment, then he frowned.

"I don't know. I just had the strangest feeling that I was supposed to bring…"

Grissom broke off the sentence and his hands formed a circle, as if he were holding something invisible about the size of a shoebox. He sighed with frustration.

"…I don't know. It's gone, whatever it was. Probably nothing."

Sara realised immediately what he was talking about. He had nearly remembered his regular 'oven mitt' deliveries.

"You used to bring over the sample in a pot wrapped in various layers to keep the contents viable. You used an oven mitt about yay big."

Sara formed the same size with her hands that Grissom had. He looked at her hands, then her face. He didn't know what to say. But he was certain of one thing. For him to have driven over here – several times - with his semen in a pot in an oven mitt then he must have been 'in love'. He just could not imagine doing such a profoundly personal thing for any other more altruistic reason. It certainly explained why he had finally given up fighting his feelings for her at the cabin. Grissom took great pleasure in the knowledge that he had not just folded simply because of convenience or proximity.

Sara dropped her hands to her lap. Grissom had a peculiar look on his face, but it didn't seem to be bad news.

"Jog anything?"

Grissom focused back in on her and half smiled.

"Not really. But it all helps build a picture."

They got out of the Denali and Grissom automatically collected Sara's cases, refusing to let Sara carry either of them, even when she reached for one.

"I'm pregnant, not ill."

Grissom looked at her.

"Yes, so let's keep it that way, shall we?"

Sara didn't reply, but Grissom could tell that she was not thrilled to be doing nothing. He was accustomed to occasionally giving her assignments which were not the ones she wanted to do, so this little power struggle didn't phase him at all. He kept his smile to himself, his instincts for self preservation finely honed around Sara. Well, most of the time, he amended mentally.

Sara led the way up to her apartment; Grissom following behind with cases that gradually seemed to acquire extra weight as he progressed. When the elevator delivered them to Sara's floor, they both stepped out. When Grissom looked up, he suddenly had a flash of memory and stopped walking.

"Something just made me think of Warrick."

Sara grinned in remembrance at Grissom's first 'sample' visit. It had been hideously embarrassing to have him present when temperature constraints had forced her to take the sample and use it. The distance of time from that event now enabled Sara to see the funny side. Grissom gave her a puzzled look.

"What?"

Sara unlocked her apartment and opened the door for Grissom to precede her. He picked up the cases but nodded for her to go in first, then carried the bags straight through to the bedroom. Sara absently noticed how unexpectedly fresh the place smelled and realised that Grissom must have aired the place as well as stocked up. She put some water on for coffee, hunting for the bag of decaf that she had somewhere. She looked up at Grissom as he emerged from her bedroom.

"Your first 'delivery' here was not unaccompanied…"

"What?!"

Grissom's shocked exclamation amused Sara. She grinned. She went on to explain about Warrick's arrival close on Grissom's heels and their mimed conversation. Grissom was not so sure that it was amusing that Warrick knew about the delivery, until it occurred to him that he wouldn't have known _why_ Grissom was at Sara's apartment. He smirked.

"You do realise that Warrick – if he saw me – would probably have assumed that we were having a relationship even back then."

Sara handed Grissom his mug of coffee on her way to the couch.

"Well, all credit to him for not saying anything about it, even to you. I know that he kept quiet when he realised about the baby."

Grissom remembered Warrick's comment at the airport. That's why he had been so certain.

"What goes around, comes around."

Sara looked up as Grissom came to sit beside her. She leaned in towards him and he put an arm around her.

"In what respect?"

"Now we get to keep his secret."

Sara's eyes lit up and she sat up to face Grissom.

"Oooh! He's seeing Catherine?"

Grissom looked both amused and put out at being pre-empted.

"How do you women do that? Some jungle telegraph that says 'another one's been captured'?"

Sara laughed without rancour, knowing that Grissom wasn't that sexist.

"Of course. You wanna hear the racket when one comes on the market. You know Peters up in Fingerprinting?"

"Vaguely. Something about him divorcing his wife when he found her in a compromising situation with her boss?"

"Yeah, that's him. He'd barely changed the locks before he was inundated with offers from food through to fel – well, I'm sure you can guess. Put the smile back on his face, I can tell you. Anyways, how did the Warrick thing go?"

Grissom was still smiling when he told her what had transpired in his office. Sara looked at him with amused respect.

"Crafty Grissom. I can see I'll have to keep a close eye on you."

He put the remains of his coffee down and took Sara's out of her hand, also putting it on the table.

"I agree. If you're not too tired, I think that you should start right now."

Grissom gently pulled Sara into his arms, giving her enough time to escape if she wished to. When she did not resist, he lowered his head to hers and their lips met at last. He had wanted to do this ever since they left the airport. The kiss was warm and coffee flavoured, a tender salute. When Grissom reluctantly pulled back Sara's eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed. She opened her eyes and he could see her dilated pupils as she gazed at him.

"Mmm, that was lovely. And, no, I'm not too tired."

But to Grissom's surprise and disappointment, Sara pulled away from him and got to her feet.

"I'll do you a deal, Grissom."

Grissom raised both brows in enquiry, trying to ignore the demands of his body. Sara smirked at him on the couch, not blind to his increasing discomfort.

"I'll keep a close eye on you, if you help me."

Sara held out her hand and Grissom took it, getting to his feet, his hope rising. Amongst other things.

"In what way?"

"We pregnant women need to rest. A lot. In bed."

Sara waggled her eyebrows suggestively and Grissom's lips pursed with amusement. Sara leaned towards him and whispered in his ear, making him shiver with anticipation.

"Sadly, I'm not sleepy but I think that you can help me out here."

Grissom was unable to keep a straight face, his lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

"If you are sure that it's safe, I'm sure that I can."

Sara gave him a vampish look so hot and sultry that he nearly stumbled.

"Thought so."

Grissom's rueful expression made Sara grin. He pulled her close.

"If you weren't pregnant I'd put you over my knee and spank you for that."

"If I wasn't pregnant I'd let you. Assuming, of course, that you'd brought the handcuffs with you."

"Sara!"

Grissom halted on their way to the bedroom. He was not sure if Sara was joking or not, until he remembered 'pineapples'. He eyed her speculatively.

"You'd wear cuffs?"

Sara shrugged, her eyes sparkling.

"Sure, if that's what you wanted…"

Grissom shook his head, bemused, but also further aroused by the banter. He stopped in his tracks again when Sara tagged on the rest of the sentence.

"…though, y'know, technically, it was _your_ turn again."

Grissom dropped Sara's hand in his shock. _He_ had worn the cuffs?

While he was distracted, Sara went to go past him, but he quickly attempted to snag an arm as she moved. She nimbly hopped away, going the other way around the couch. He swiftly moved to cut her off, so she reversed course, trying the first way again. Sara laughed as she narrowly avoided him.

"C'mon, Gris, you're losing your touch here!"

Although Grissom knew that she was teasing him, the comment wasn't at accurate and he could not let it ride. He lunged forward, leaning over the middle of the couch and Sara squealed. Grissom's move had taken her by surprise and she couldn't react fast enough to stop him from grabbing hold of one wrist. Sara laughed as she tugged ineffectually.

"Hey! No fair, that's cheating."

Grissom smirked as he prevented her from getting away.

"I never said that I would play fair."

He cast his gaze over Sara as he moved to the end of the couch as – still holding her wrist – he came around the back of it to stand in front her.

"But all's fair in love and war."

Grissom had let the unguarded words out before he realised it. He had promised himself that he would not ask Sara why she had not told him in Miami that she loved him, despite the fact that he was sure that she did. Well, almost sure. Grissom waited for her response. She looked down his body, halting in apparent fascination just below waist level. She tipped her head to look up at Grissom through her lashes.

"Remind me not to make war with you."

Sara relaxed in Grissom's grasp and moved closer to him, sliding her free hand around his waist and tucking it inside at the back. She was aware that something had changed the atmosphere but wasn't certain what it was. Some of the light heartedness had left his expression when he asked,

"But is making love is still okay?"

Sara's response was gratifyingly fast.

"Hell yes! You stop doing that and there will be war for sure."

Grissom touched Sara's face with his free hand, his fingers gentle as they trailed down her cheek to her throat. His voice was soft and the tone lighter again.

"Well, we can't have that. You need your rest. I'm here to help."

Both of them moved even closer together, their heads only a few inches apart. Sara's voice took on a breathy quality.

"Yeah, I love your help. You can help me anytime you like."

"Good, good. I like helping you. In fact, I'd like to help you right now."

"So what's stopping you?"

Sara was intrigued that, despite the fact that neither of them were using sexually provocative language, her arousal was unmistakable and intense. She fleetingly wondered how much of it was due to her raging hormones, simple lust or love, but she didn't much care why it was happening, just that it was. She tugged Grissom against her with her hand at the small of his back, then slipped her other hand between them and over the prominent bulge in his pants. Grissom groaned aloud and pushed into her grasp. His blue eyes pinned her in place and his voice was harshly aroused as he grated,

"Bedroom, now!"

Heat pulsed in waves through Sara at the tone of Grissom's voice. The caveman was calling and her liberated cave woman called back. She tugged him into her bedroom, pulling him by the double grip on his pants. They stumbled through the doorway of Sara's room and came to a halt beside the bed. They hadn't even kissed yet. Sara remedied that when she released her grip on the pants, grabbed the front of Grissom's T-shirt in two handfuls and tugged him down to her lips.

Grissom had sufficient control over himself not to pick Sara up and throw her on the bed, which was fortunate, because that was exactly what he wanted to do. Instead he poured the passion into his kisses, trying to make Sara realise the depth of his feelings without having to put them into words. His arms closed around her and moulded her contours to his. He felt one of Sara's hands leave his front and slide around the back, under his T. He shivered in anticipation as her fingers stroked across the back of his neck. He was disappointed when her hand withdrew but consoled when both of Sara's hands burrowed under the T's edge.

Sara's questing fingers found the little nubs of erect flesh and rubbed them gently, then skimmed them lightly with her fingernails. She felt Grissom shudder and smiled inwardly as she continued to kiss him, delving deep and hard, an evenly matched duel she thought until Grissom broke off the kiss, his breath short and shallow, his eyes gleaming.

Grissom could see the tremor in his hands as he moved to undo the small buttons on Sara's shirt. She was breathing heavily and it made her breasts brush against his knuckles. At last the material parted and his gaze fell from Sara's face to the revealed flesh. He heard her suck in a breath as his fingers skimmed across the thin material of her bra. He could both see and feel the prominently outlined nipples and could tell from Sara's response that they were much more sensitive now.

Sara still felt hot, but her tiredness had vanished as if it had never been. She shook her shirt from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Grissom seemed mesmerised by her breasts and she glanced down at them. She supposed that they were bigger than the last time he saw them and they did appear to want to spill out over the balcony style cups. She was completely distracted from her thoughts when Grissom caressed her; she felt weak at the knees and had to hang on to his forearms. Arousal flooded through her leaving her drenched and electrified. She felt somehow taller and stronger. She undid her own pants in quick efficient movements and dropped them to the floor along with her socks, leaving her standing in cream and lilac lace. She stared hungrily at her husband.

"One of us is overdressed for the occasion."

Grissom savoured the whole 'nearly naked Sara' picture for several seconds.

"I guess that must be me."

He grabbed the hem of his T with both hands and yanked upwards. While he was blind and had his arms tangled he felt a hand push firmly against his stomach. He felt momentary alarm until the back of his legs hit the bed and he fell backwards onto it. He hadn't even stopped bouncing before he felt the tug on his pants belt and zipper. He grinned inside his T-shirt and finished removing it. He lifted his hips just in time as his pants were whisked off, taking his socks with them. Before he knew it he was lying naked except for his boxers. Sara looked triumphant as she discarded the clothes beside her own.

"Better."

Sara enjoyed the sight of Grissom sprawled on her bed for a few moments, her gaze travelling all over him but ending up on the well filled boxers. It sure felt like Christmas to her. She licked her dry lips and nodded towards the head of the bed.

"Scoot."

Grissom paused briefly before he moved up until his head was on one of the pillows and his feet at the end. He was not in the least threatened by her decision to take charge today; in fact he was interested to know what she had in mind. He watched, fascinated, as she moved to the end of the bed and leaned forward, giving him a splendid view of her breasts. Her right hand snaked out and touched him.

Sara ran her palm over the rigid length barely contained by the boxers. Grissom jerked under her hand and groaned as if in pain. He felt hot to touch through the cotton and she could barely wait to feel him flesh to flesh. First things first though.

"Put your hands up."

"What?"

"You heard. Hands. Up."

Grissom watched Sara get off the bed and move to its head. She knelt and her hand disappeared from view to appear a moment later with a length of scarlet silk. Grissom's jaw dropped in disbelief.

No…she wouldn't.

How did she know? Had Sara read the file, or had Catherine told her about the case…?

Sara moved around the bed and pulled out the other end of the material. She looked at Grissom's face.

"Before you get all bent out of shape, this was originally your idea."

She waited patiently until Grissom made a move to offer her a wrist of his own accord.

"Which I heartily approved of, just in case you were wondering."

She grinned as she tied off the silk. Grissom tested the bond. It held. Sara returned to the other side and picked up the silk, running it through her hand. She continued the almost hypnotic movement until finally Grissom rasped,

"When?"

The movement stopped as Sara looked down at him.

"The second week at the cabin. This was in the window of the shop where I bought my dress."

"How did I..?"

Grissom trailed off, amazed at the idea that his 'other self' had been able to trust enough to reveal one of his innermost fantasies. But then again, this was Sara, the woman who he trusted with his life. The same Sara who two years ago had appeared in front of him and Catherine and asked him to tape her up.

He had not been lying to Catherine when he said at the time that he loved his job.

"You appeared quite fascinated by the material when we were shopping in town and stopped at the window. You asked me if I recalled saying that you could tie me up any time you wanted."

Here Sara's lips twitched with amusement.

"I didn't remember saying it, but the idea was even more fun than you taping me up with duct tape. The rest, as they say, is history."

Sara sat on the side of the bed and almost casually reached out to stroke Grissom through his boxers. His eyes closed in pleasure and he pulsed again under her hand. She could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. He sucked in a breath.

"Okay, okay, I believe you."

Grissom allowed Sara to tie his other wrist with the silk. He realised that it was one long strip of material lying under the mattress. He tugged both arms experimentally and although he had a small range of movement, he was quite well secured. His arousal hitched up a notch when he realised that he must have used this to tie Sara up at the cabin. Christ, he could only imagine how mind blowing THAT session had been.

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This bit censored !! Read it on adult fan fiction if you are over 18!!

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Despite her staggering climax, Sara paused only briefly before beginning to move again; she wasn't the only one involved here.

Grissom was consumed with sensation. Sara's slick wetness, the delicious feelings gathering throughout his body, the suck and slide of his flesh with Sara's, the crescendo building and focusing at the base of his spine. It rushed through him in an instant, suddenly snapping like arcing electricity, making him explode into one of the most intense climaxes that he had ever experienced. The silk ties pulled taut as he strained against Sara, spilling himself inside her, pulsing with completion, until finally they were both spent.

Sara slumped slightly, her hands resting on Grissom's legs, her breath heaving in her chest. She was utterly drained and could barely summon up the energy required to get off Grissom and lie down beside him. She looked at him beside her and smirked.

"Jeez, Gris, I'm gonna have to tie you up more often."

Grissom lay in drowsy bliss, his eyes closed, his breathing still deep. He felt too comfortable to do anything other than lie on the bed beside Sara. He managed a smile, opening his eyes briefly.

"Works for me."

Sara smiled despite her lethargy. She slipped from Grissom and climbed off the bed, moving to untie him. She knelt beside his left hand.

"It certainly does."

They lay quiescent for several minutes on top of the bed, barely awake, until Grissom felt the chill of the air conditioning.

"Honey, you get into bed, I want you to stay warm and get some sleep."

Sara didn't demur, she was very tired. She slipped under the crumpled cover and made herself comfortable. But she wasn't too tired to watch Grissom move to close her drapes so that they could sleep for a while.

Grissom made sure that the apartment was secure then rejoined Sara in the bedroom. He got into the bed and turned on his side to face her, his head resting on his right hand. She looked at him.

"Stay with me?"

Grissom threaded his fingers through Sara's, encouraging her to turn on her right side to face away from him so that he could spoon up behind her. She looked over her shoulder, up at him, waiting for his answer. His expression was serious, but his eyes were warm.

"As long as you need."

Sara was silent for a long moment. She was too drowsy to be brave or guarded or sensible. This was her husband, the father of her child, the man that she loved.

"I know that you have your doubts, and that there are still issues to sort, but whatever happens, never doubt that I love you."

Grissom could not speak for several seconds. He brought their clasped hands to his lips and kissed Sara's fingers, until he had control over his voice.

" I was concerned when - "

A brow went up.

"Concerned?"

Wry grin.

"Okay, 'worried' then, when you didn't say it in Miami…"

Sara interrupted before Grissom could complete his sentence.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to scare you off. I didn't want you to feel obligated to tell me it back just because we're married. You didn't say that you loved me, just that you recognised your gift of a second chance. I…guessed that it was the only way that you felt that you could say it. Without actually saying..."

"I love you."

"Exactly."

Grissom smiled.

"No, I mean, I love you."

Sara looked at him for a long, long moment, then smiled a gentle, beautiful smile, secretly reminiscing. She squeezed his fingers.

"Yeah, I know."

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Sara parked next to Grissom's Denali and switched off the engine. She was early for work again, but not as early as Grissom had been. It had been a conscious decision by the two of them. Coming in too early would mean running the risk of meeting the day shift staff and she wanted to put that off as long as possible. Sara remained in the vehicle for a few more minutes. She checked her purse unnecessarily for a second time. She double-checked her hair and make up. Everything was fine and she had no reason to delay any longer. Sara collected her small bag of Miami souvenirs for the guys from the passenger seat. She smoothed her T-shirt down over her front and smiled. Almost as if to let Sara know that she was not alone, the baby moved, doing some sort of back flip by the weird feel of it. Although the baby's movement was reassuring and Sara was always pleased that the baby was okay, she didn't find the 'wriggling baby' feeling that pleasant. It felt like a brief moment in an express elevator, a touch of freefall before everything righted itself.

Sara crossed the car lot and entered the building. She made her way to the staff locker room, passing four or five cops on the way. They had given her odd speculative looks, but no one had stopped her with questions.

Sara hung up her lightweight jacket and deposited her purse, keeping the extra bag out. She shut the locker door and grinned to herself, saying under her breath,

"Showtime!"

Sara left the locker room and went to the breakroom. She glanced at her watch and found that she was still a quarter of an hour early. No one was around yet so she went to the night shift Supervisor's office. Her husband's office. She grinned.

Grissom looked up as Sara entered his office, smiling in greeting. He automatically looked at her fledgling bump. He was pleased that Sara was making no effort to hide the pregnancy.

"Hey."

"Hi. Big anticlimax so far."

Grissom half smiled, still concerned about the possible fallout for Sara in all this.

"Don't worry, you'll get a reaction soon enough."

He leaned back in his chair.

"It's good to have you back at work."

Sara perched on the edge of the desk, resting a hand on her vanishing waist, and one on a thigh.

"Glad to be back here. Miami was nice but it lacked something."

Grissom looked askance, his eyebrows raised.

"What was that?"

"You."

Before Grissom had chance to reply, there was a knock on the door, and it opened immediately. Catherine strode into the office, her eyes going unerringly to Sara's belly. Her smile was wide.

"Ha! If that's what you get working in Miami, I'm glad that I stayed here!"

Sara smirked, unsurprised that Catherine had obviously figured it out before today.

"Hey, they don't give these out to just anyone!"

"Thank God! So what's the skinny? Officially, I mean."

Sara straightened and glanced from Grissom to Catherine.

"Officially, I'm pregnant, will be taking maternity leave and coming back."

Catherine paused, waiting for the rest. She looked from Grissom to Sara and back.

"What? That's it?"

Sara nodded, amused.

Catherine shook her head.

"You realise that they're going to speculate like crazy about the father."

Grissom stirred.

"They can speculate all they like, but to the official line is what we have just told you."

"Yeah, right. Like that's gonna fly."

Grissom looked at his watch and got to his feet, picking up the assignment slips that he had already sorted. He caught Sara's eye and gave a small smile. They had already discussed this moment and they had decided to go with passive resistance. They wouldn't confirm or deny anything, leaving anyone outside their immediate shift colleagues to their own devices.

All three people turned to leave the office. Catherine halted the other two.

"Unofficially, I'd like to say how pleased I am that you two finally hooked up. Maybe there will be some peace and quiet around here."

She looked at Sara's stomach again and her smile was wide.

"Or maybe not."

Catherine looked back to Grissom.

"You are one lucky SOB."

Grissom looked at Sara and she smiled. He looked back to Catherine.

"Yes, I am."

They start to move again, but Catherine halted them a second time.

"Wait, let me get to the breakroom first, this I want to see."

Catherine's smile was gleeful as she left the office, leaving the door open behind her.

Grissom stepped back to allow Sara to precede him out of the office. Just as he moved to follow his office telephone started to ring. He looked apologetic.

"I have to get that, I'm expecting someone to call me back. It won't take long."

Sara nodded, unconcerned.

"Sure. Catch you later."

Sara walked up the corridor to the breakroom, where she could see through the glass walls that Greg, Nick, Warrick and Catherine were already waiting for Grissom. She entered the room and started to walk towards the fridge, intending to get a drink.

Warrick looked up first. His face lit up at seeing who it was and he quickly got to his feet.

"Hey Sara! Welcome back."

Sara found herself in a one-arm hug, Warrick being careful not to crowd her too much. He had glanced at her waist but it didn't linger.

"Thanks, War. Glad to be back."

"Miami agreed with you, girl, you look great."

While Warrick and Sara were exchanging greetings, Catherine had part of her attention on Nicky and Greg. Both of them looked surprised, but Greg looked stunned, and not in a good way. They both got up from their seats; Nick first, then Greg, both trying very hard not to look too closely at Sara from the neck down. She turned to greet them with a smile,

"Hi guys. Brought something back from Miami."

Before he could stop himself Greg blurted.

"We can see that."

There was a moment of stunned silence until Sara looked down at herself and then at Greg. She smiled and everyone else relaxed.

"Ah, no. This I took with me. _These_ I brought back."

Sara shook the bag out gently and gave each of them their gifts, part of which were the small candies that Florida was famous for.

"There's an extra bag for Lindsey, Catherine."

Catherine nodded in appreciation.

"Great. I hate it when I have to share my candy."

The others laughed as they were meant to, and it smoothed things over for Greg.

Nick moved closer to Sara and gave her a tentative hug. He felt like a big brother that had failed to keep an eye on his sister.

"It's good to have you back. Are you okay?"

Sara nodded.

"I'm good, thanks."

Nick lowered his voice and leaned in discreetly.

"Anyone's head I should be knocking in to shape?"

Sara laughed and shook her head.

"No, it's cool."

"Sure?"

"Stop fishing Nicky, it's fine."

Nick nodded.

"You happy?"

"Very."

"That's okay then."

Nick didn't know what else to say without asking Sara outright who the baby's father was. He naturally assumed that it was Grissom, but if Sara wasn't ready to say yet, then it was none of his business. Fortunately he was spared having to think up anything else to say by Greg's approach.

"So what was Miami like?"

"Cooler. Working days was different. Great lab, very modern. You'd love the place."

Greg nodded, his mind suddenly not entirely on the conversation. He kept looking from Sara to somewhere behind her.

"Yeah, great, that's really…great."

"Is something wrong, Greg?"

Sara resisted the urge to look behind her; there was only the breakroom glass wall and the corridor outside it.

Greg's attention snapped back to Sara's face and he laughed nervously.

"No, no, no, nothing's wrong. Just…y'know, wondering. Stuff. It's cool."

Sara could see that 'it' was not cool, whatever it was.

"Greggo, snap out of it and focus. You're making me nervous."

The younger man shifted from one foot to the other.

"I was just wondering if you had told…I mean, does he know? Have you told Grissom about the, y'know, the kid?"

Sara managed not to laugh. Greg's concern seemed genuine.

"Yes, he knows. He took it well. Why?"

Greg nodded behind her.

"He doesn't look too happy now."

Sara turned to see what Greg meant. Grissom was half way up the corridor, clearly on his way to the breakroom. Greg was correct, he didn't look happy at all.

They had all seated themselves at the long table by the time that Grissom entered the room. He took his seat, barely acknowledging them, his expression stony.

Sara felt the first stirrings of alarm. What the hell had happened since she left his office? She tried to catch Grissom's eye, but he didn't allow it. Sara and Catherine looked at each other in puzzlement.

The assignments were distributed quickly and efficiently. There was a brief update session, where everyone brought his or her cases up to speed with Grissom. At the end of it, when it appeared that he had finished, the rest of the team started to rise from their chairs.

"Just one more thing."

Grissom's voice made them all sit back down again.

"I'm sure that we would all like to welcome Sara back from Miami."

All but Sara agreed with him, but their greetings were subdued in the face of the atmosphere. They waited for him to say something else, but nothing was forthcoming, so they got up again and scattered, leaving Sara and Grissom alone.

Grissom stood up, collecting the files on the table together. Sara stepped closer, searching his face for some clue.

"What is it?"

Now that they were alone, Grissom looked at Sara. Each time he thought that they had got things back on course, another stone dropped in the pond.

"It wasn't the call that I was expecting. It was Horatio Caine. Knowing that I'm your husband, he assumed that you had already spoken with me."

"Ah."

Sara cursed inwardly. Then out aloud.

"Crap."

Grissom nodded carefully. He reminded himself to have faith, but it was difficult to keep calm. He waited.

Sara looked at him, a sense of déjà vu stealing over her. Gil had gone ballistic over the temporary job offer. What would he think now?

"Caine spoke to me on my last day. Offered me a permanent position in Miami."

Grissom stood silent, one finger pressed to his lips as if to prevent anything escaping unchecked. After a pause, he asked,

"What did you tell him?"

Sara looked at him, exasperated.

"I told him that it was a great offer and that I'd be mad to turn it down."

"What!?"

TBC


	10. Last Chance 18

Disclaimer: Trademarked product, used only for fun and games. Or I'd be trying to make a living at this. I wish!

Author: hazeleyes57

Title: Last Chance, chapter 18

Rating: R

A/N: Sorry – in the last chapter I meant to use the sentence from 'Kiss the Sky' that Sara used, as an 'homage' and forgot to mention it in the note. Unreserved apologies.

**Last Chance Chapter 18**

Nick stokes looked up from what he was doing, his glance again falling on the disconsolate face of Greggo, their favourite lab rat. Nick silently shook his head and returned to his work.

It was no secret that the brilliant young specialist was attracted to Sara, and although he had put on a brave face in the breakroom, he had not taken the news about Sara's pregnancy well. He had the same shocked expression on his face that he had been wearing when he returned to work after the explosion in the lab.

After another few minutes of silence – that in itself a surprise – Nick put down the micropipette that he had been using. He was aiming for consolation, but somehow it didn't come out quite right.

"Hey, Greggo, it's not like you ever had a chance with Sara."

Greg looked up from the textbook that he had been pretending to read. Some of the big-eyed puppy dog misery moved aside for a little indignation.

"Hey, she would have come around. I was working up to it, being subtle."

Nick raised one eyebrow in disbelief.

"You? Subtle?"

Greg was too depressed to rise to the bait. He suddenly stood up and dropped the textbook down on the lab bench. Test tubes rattled in a rack.

"It's not that impossible."

At Nick's puzzled look, Greg elaborated.

"Me and Sara. Not such a stretch. She's not that much older than I am, and now that Hank's history, I was giving her time to get over him. Not rushing her."

"She's over Hank, believe me. They were never that much of an item."

Nick picked up the pipette and replaced the used tip with a fresh one. Greg nodded slowly.

"Yeah. The ratfink hurt her pride, not her heart. Pity about the kid though. Is Sara Catholic?"

It took Nick a moment to realise what Greg was hinting at. It dawned on him that they were straying into unwise territory and that Greg had seriously misunderstood Sara's situation. He looked up to the lab doorway to check that they were not being overheard.

"Look, I think that you should just give it up, okay? Take it like a man and move on. Sara has."

As soon as they had left his mouth, Nick realised that he should not have uttered the last two words. He didn't try to recover from it; he shut up and kept his head down in the hope that Greg wouldn't pursue it.

No such luck.

Greg looked startled and hopeful.

"So Hank's not in the picture…"

His expression turned gloomy again.

"…but she's obviously seeing _someone_."

Nick figured wisely - if a little late - that he should have kept his mouth shut.

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Catherine did a U turn in the corridor outside Grissom's office. She had been going to wait for Grissom to catch up with her – they were assigned together this evening – but now she wondered at the wisdom of leaving the lovebirds alone in the breakroom. Something had obviously gone wrong and Grissom had looked pissed. The last thing that they needed was for someone to witness a personal 'discussion' and report back to Cavallo.

Just as she had started back up the corridor, she heard Grissom's office telephone ring. It was the outside line tone and Catherine wondered if she should answer it. As she hesitated, it stopped ringing. It started again almost immediately. It would seem that someone wanted to get hold of Grissom. Catherine tutted as she walked into the office. Whoever it was should get in line.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What!"

Grissom stared at Sara hoping that his shock wasn't as visible as it felt.

Sara took a deep calming breath and exhaled slowly. She reminded herself that Grissom was still insecure about the two of them being together. She guessed that he was most strongly reminded of this when they were at work, where the differences counted. Gill had moved past that enough for them to marry, but this wasn't Gill here, not yet.

"Y'know what? Nothing I say is going to make a bit of difference here or anyplace, unless you can get over this lack of trust thing. You're going to have to figure this out for yourself. Listen to the famous 'evidence is everything' voice and _you_ figure it out. When you have, come get me. Don't take forever."

Sara spun on her heel and stalked out of the briefing room, leaving Grissom slack jawed in surprise. Half of him had expected Sara to rush in and reassure him about Miami, the other half had expected her to say, 'so long, hey, it's been fun'.

Neither half had expected her to turn around and leave without giving him an answer.

By the time Grissom had gathered his wits, Sara had vanished, and Catherine was standing in the doorway, a 'post it' note in her hand.

"Nick Calavecci returning your call. He's waiting for you to call back now before he catches his flight."

Grissom remembered the doctor whose call he had been expecting when he had spoken to Sara earlier. It was imperative that he speak with him, so the pursuit of Sara would have to wait. He took the note from Catherine's fingers as he passed her in the doorway, his mind already on the telephone call.

Catherine stood in the doorway looking at his retreating back, her hands on her hips. She called after him.

"You're welcome!"

Without turning around, Grissom raised the hand with the note in it in acknowledgement. It was obviously all the thanks that she was going to get for now.

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Warrick looked up as Sara entered the locker room.

"Hey."

Sara gave him a smile as she collected her jacket. She wasn't too stressed about the incident in the breakroom, but she thought that it wouldn't hurt to prod Grissom a little. She was coming up on the halfway mark of her pregnancy, and she would like 'things' to be sorted as best as they could be before the baby's birth.

"Ready to go?"

Warrick stood up and smiled back as he shut his locker.

"Sure, another night, another nickel."

"Think that one up all by yourself?"

"No, I had help."

"No, you _need_ help."

At Sara's retort Warrick stopped and frowned at her.

"Just remember that you won't always be pregnant. I'll get my own back."

Sara grinned before giving him an exaggeratedly scared face.

"I'm shakin' in my boots!"

Warrick shook his head.

"Yeah, right…I don't think."

He thought how good it was to hear Sara's laughter again. Grissom must be doing something right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I really thought that they had got it sorted for a moment there."

Catherine's voice had a slightly resigned quality to it that Warrick picked up immediately. He was still treading carefully with Catherine as they both worked through the construction of their new relationship.

"This is Grissom we're talking about. Mister 'closed off' with Miss 'defensive'. It's bound to have a couple of false starts. They both have a lot to unlearn about being together."

Catherine turned her head slightly to get a better view of Warrick.

"That was insightful. I told you that you were a lot deeper than people gave you credit for. And you're right, they have a steep learning curve, with a baby thrown in for good measure. It'll be bumpy."

Warrick looked at the side view of Catherine's face. He didn't think that he would ever tire of seeing her this close to him. Grissom and his difficulties faded into the background.

"So, what time to we have to collect Lindsey?"

"Three thirty. That gives us about two hours. Any ideas about what to do while we wait?"

Catherine's smirk was almost coy, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Warrick grinned.

"I'm sure something will crop up."

Catherine shifted and the foamy bath water swirled around them in agitation. One of her hands disappeared under the bubbles and Warrick gasped with pleasure. Catherine purred.

"Seems to me it already has."

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Sara settled back on her couch and brought her feet up on the other end. She opened the book that she was reading on her lap and flicked through the pages to where she had left off a couple of days ago. Work had been busy this week, and she had hardly had chance to see Grissom, let alone read up on where she was in her pregnancy. Having found the page she wanted, Sara picked up her glass of milk and sipped as she read about ultrasound scans. Sara had an appointment for the day after tomorrow for her first scan and she wanted to know what to look for. The photographs accompanying the text were amazing and she wondered how – in the technical sense – that the pictures had been acquired. Within a few minutes she was lost in the book, her drink forgotten.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grissom checked his emails on his laptop while he was eating his 'lunch'. It was four in the afternoon and he had managed to sleep, if a little fitfully, for several hours. He was just musing idly about how much better he slept when Sara stayed over, when he opened the folder that collated all his work related correspondence. He scrolled through various health and safety bulletins and social palaver – of which there seemed to be vast numbers – until a flagged 'urgent' email came into view. He clicked on the message and it opened up.

Grissom frowned as he read. It was from Assistant Director Robert Cavallo. Grissom read on, his fledgling appetite fading as he realised that this was what he had been expecting ever since Sara got back from Miami.

'…_and under the circumstances I find it disturbing that I have to learn about an important development in department staffing levels from another member of the staff instead of yourself. I have arranged an appointment to see you in my office - '_

There followed the date and time that Cavallo expected Grissom to present himself in his office.

Grissom checked his watch and cursed silently. Cavallo didn't waste much time. He wanted to see him this afternoon, before he was due back at work tonight. Typical that the man wanted to see Grissom during his own work time and not Grissom's. If there was one thing he hated about the Supervisor's post, it was having to co operate with the endless machinations of the people with political agendas. He read the rest of the email with his eyes narrowed in anger.

'…_where we will discuss your role as supervisor and the execution of your duties.'_

Grissom pushed the laptop away from him and got up. Although he had gone against his own ethical code in seeing Sara, there was nothing on paper to actually prevent him from seeing one of his subordinates. There was no law that said that they couldn't marry either. This wasn't like the military where there were clear rules about fraternisation. Cavallo was just being an ass again and trying to irritate him. He had been gunning for Grissom even before the lab explosion involving Catherine, and he had been trying to trip him up ever since.

Grissom paced around the townhouse, pausing at the window to look outside and try to calm down. After a few minutes he rubbed the tension out of the back of his neck and walked back to the dining table and the laptop. He sat down to type, his expression determined.

Time for some insurance.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cavallo had Grissom wait outside his office for an extra ten minutes. Grissom knew the tactic for what it was and merely seated himself comfortably, reading a small book that he had brought with him for just that purpose.

When Cavallo appeared to summon Grissom into his office, he found the younger man deep in some book and had to call him twice. Grissom – who had heard him perfectly the first time – looked up and gave the AD a small smile.

"Sorry," he gestured to the book, "don't often have time to catch up on my reading. Thanks."

The AD was not amused at having been prevented from annoying the nightshift Supervisor.

"No, sorry to have kept you waiting. I was on the telephone to the Mayor."

He was about as sincere as Grissom had been, and was attempting to show that he had the political ear.

It was wasted on Grissom, who didn't give a crap about it anyway. The posturing over for now, the two men settled in Cavallo's office.

They discussed a few points that Grissom considered minor, bordering on trivial. Then Cavallo leaned back in his chair and looked at Grissom.

"Now, what's this I hear about _Miss_ Sidle?"

Grissom just looked at him as if waiting for more information. When none was forthcoming he eventually he replied.

"I don't know, Robert. What have you heard?"

"You're not blind Grissom. Even you must notice when one of your staff gets knocked up."

Grissom pursed his lips as he silently counted to ten. He ignored the unpleasant phraseology and the inferred slight in the caustic 'even you'.

"I am well aware that Sara is pregnant. She informed me prior to her secondment to Miami. She has completed the requisite paper work from Human Resources and has applied for maternity leave to be taken at the appropriate time. She specifically asked me not to inform the rest of the shift about her condition until she was ready."

Cavallo took no pleasure from Grissom's response. He was unaware that Sidle had already informed HR, and was annoyed that he hadn't checked the facts for himself. His voice was sarcastic.

"Is she ready yet?"

"The rest of the shift were informed the day that she returned to work after Miami. No one _appeared_ to have any problem with it."

Grissom had no trouble guessing who had whispered in Cavallo's ear. He had heard Greg comment that Hodges was a 'real butt limpet' and couldn't bring himself to disagree.

Robert Cavallo sighed in disgust.

"Goddam women in the job. Train 'em up and bam, they're pregnant and you've wasted the taxpayer's money."

Grissom didn't comment, preferring to let the AD hang himself. It was typical of this man with his political aspirations to be so politically incorrect. It occurred to him that Cavallo appeared to have no idea that Grissom's relationship with Sara was more than just that of her Supervisor. Hodges obviously didn't know everything.

"Nothing to say Grissom? Ah well, never mind. Soon get some fresh blood in if she doesn't come back."

Grissom couldn't resist rattling Cavallo's cage. He stood up, ready to leave.

"Sara is regularly headhunted but - until now - has resisted all offers. It seems other people don't share your view of female CSI's. Miami want her and 'Frisco would have her back in a heartbeat."

Cavallo eyed Grissom from the other side of the desk.

"I've heard about your misguided loyalty to the staff. Doesn't pay to be soft."

Grissom turned for the door. He had similar conversations before with Cavallo and he just didn't get it. With his hand on the door handle he turned back to the AD.

"A lab with no staff doesn't pay at all."

Grissom left the office without waiting for Cavallo's reply. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his involvement with Sara was discovered, all he had achieved here was a stay of execution. It was enough time to warn Sara, particularly about Mr Butt Limpet. He doubted that she would be surprised, none of the staff had warmed to him. Ironically, Hodges thought that they were the ones with the 'attitude' problem.

Now that the meeting was over, Grissom knew that he had several hours before he needed to be at work. Time enough to go home. Or time enough to go see Sara.

Home could wait.

He unlocked the Denali and climbed in. Before he started the engine he took out his cell and pressed the speed dial number for Sara's home telephone. If she was out he didn't want to disturb her by ringing her cell. It was only when he heard the telephone pick up that it occurred to him that Sara might have been asleep.

"Hey Grissom."

"You have caller ID?"

He could hear the smile in her voice when she answered.

"Yeah, I do. What's up?"

He was tempted to say 'me' but managed not to say it out aloud. He looked around the car lot for inspiration. How do you say 'I want to come over to see you, to make love to you, to have you sleep beside me'?

"Grissom?"

"Yes?"

"You are my husband. If you want to come over you don't have to book an appointment. If you're checking that I'm in, you have your answer."

Grissom smiled despite the fact that she couldn't see him. The geek mind meld was still working. He was suddenly ravenous.

"What do you fancy; Thai? Indian? Chinese? Italian?"

There was hardly any hesitation in Sara's voice.

"Chinese, and bring extra sweet and sour chicken balls, I'm starving."

"Bring extra balls. I certainly will."

"Yeah, I'll bet."

Grissom smirked at the sound of Sara's sexy laugh as she added.

"I'll have something hot for you when you get here."

Grissom grinned at the sexy tone.

"Please tell me that you don't mean two plates."

"Damn, you read my mind."

"See you in twenty."

"Cool."

Grissom put his cell away and started up the Denali. Sara managed to make everything seem so easy and straightforward. It was only when he wasn't in her proximity that he began to have doubts creep in. It wasn't Sara that he didn't trust, it was himself. He had already ruined one chance to connect with someone by running at the first opportunity – he doubted that Heather would ever forgive him and he didn't blame her. He had let her down.

Just as he would probably let Sara down.

Grissom sighed heavily. In the space of an hour he had gone from anger through amusement, lust and depression. These mood swings were exhausting. The only consolation he had was that his nausea was increasingly rare now, and his appetite had returned with a vengeance. And not just for food. His depression lifted.

He drove faster.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As soon as Sara got off the telephone she had a lightening tidy around the apartment. She wasn't going to think about the Grissom/Miami thing just now; he was her husband, and any chance that she got to be with him wasn't going to be squandered. She was giving him more and more memories to replace the missing ones, helping to make him realise just what he had. What _they_ had together. She put the stove on a low heat and stuck some dishes in to warm up, her lips curving with amusement. She pulled the towel off her damp hair and raked her fingers through the tangled strands. She didn't have time to straighten it; Gris would have to settle for the wild and curly look. Wild and curly made her think of Grissom's cabin and the water tub and making love in the rain. She checked that her bed was tidy and fresh. She changed into a more appealing outfit and spritzed herself with perfume. At this stage of her pregnancy she was relatively unencumbered by the physical changes to her body, she had a cleavage to die for and she felt fit and energetic. And randy. Very randy. All the time.

Sod the Chinese, where was Grissom?

It was another ten minutes before there was a knock on her apartment door. Sara managed to stop herself running to the door, and opened it with only a modicum of haste. Mmmm. God he looked so tasty.

Grissom was holding two carry bags of Chinese food from a popular local restaurant. He kept a straight face as he stepped into the apartment, carrying the food to the kitchenette area. With ease born of practise he placed the cartons in the stove's top oven to remain warm. He turned to Sara with a grin.

"As promised, extra balls Madam."

Sara pounced.

Grissom instantly realised that he wouldn't be eating Chinese any time in the immediate future. He didn't care. Sara obviously had other appetites that needing feeding first; her lips glued to his, her mouth demanding a response as her arms wrapped around him. When she broke off to look at him, presumably to see how he was taking her attack, he was breathing heavily, all thought of food forgotten.

Xxxxxxx This piece not available here, see message boards on 'your tax dollars at work' for the link to other higher rating sites. Sorry, I don't make the rules. xxxxxxxxxx

He looked her in the eyes again, still astonished at the message that they were giving him.

_You are mine and I am yours._

Sara also leaned forward, so that she could wrap her arms around Grissom and hold him until she had stopped shaking. They were face to face, her head higher than his. She laughed aloud, still giddy and breathless. No wonder that she loved him.

"Wow! Damn but that was good! Just what I wanted."

Grissom smiled, looking up at her. Her hair was dishevelled where he had run his fingers through it and her make up was smudged. She looked incredible. No wonder that he loved her.

"What we both wanted. Needed."

Sara bent forward and kissed the top of Grissom's head. He found himself nestled comfortably against Sara's still covered breasts and he felt his arousal twitch involuntarily.

So did Sara. She pulled back her head to look at him again and smirked.

"Hey, food first. I've just worked up an appetite!"

Grissom first kissed Sara thoroughly then reluctantly allowed himself to slip from her body.

"Me too. But you're right. Food first."

With agility that belied her condition, Sara got down from the counter with Grissom's help and went in search of the kitchen paper towels, another casualty of the worktop clearance.

Grissom pulled his pants up, leaving them unfastened. He picked up Sara's slacks and straightened the legs out right side. He picked up the lacy panties that fell out of one leg. He could see Sara was looking for something. He was more than momentarily distracted by the fact that she was naked from the waist down.

He held up the lace on one finger.

"Looking for these?"

He was the picture of innocence when Sara's head popped up.

"Nah. Paper towel and some cleanser, though I still may never eat at that counter top again."

Grissom smiled at Sara's squeamishness. He tipped his head as he often did at work.

"Why not? I did."

Sara's expression was torn between outrage and amusement, as was her voice.

"Grissom!"

He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, honey?"

Amusement won out, and they both smirked. Sara sighed.

"Never mind, let's eat."

At his expression, Sara tutted.

"The Chinese, Grissom, the _Chinese_."

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That night, before leaving for work, Grissom did not mention to Sara about his summons to Cavallo's office but he did advise her to be wary about who might be listening to her conversations in and around the labs and breakroom. It was obvious to Sara that he didn't want to go into details, but she was smart enough to have put two and two together. Her already lukewarm working relationship with Hodges dropped another couple of degrees.

He didn't notice.

About an hour before the end of the shift, Catherine and Sara drove back to the lab from their latest crime scene. For once there was no DB, just a fairly straightforward robbery with lots of potential evidence available. Catherine was driving and humming lightly under her breath.

"Someone seems to be in a good mood. Care to tell?"

Catherine glanced at Sara before returning her gaze to the front. She tried to hide her grin but it broke out anyway.

"Hell, no."

Sara smiled with sympathetic amusement. She didn't want to discuss her situation with Grissom either, so she understood where Catherine was coming from.

"Well, I get that. However, it doesn't mean that I can't say that I think the two of you look good together. I always have done, but now the timing is right, y'know?"

Catherine nodded, understanding better than Sara realised. With Eddie in the background, nothing could have got going with anyone new, he would have sabotaged it in a heartbeat. He had still wanted Catherine as well as his women on the side. She wasn't glad that he was dead – he was still Lindsay's father - but she was relieved that he wasn't hanging around anymore.

Eager to steer the subject away from herself, Catherine turned it back to Sara.

"So, how many weeks is it now? You must have a scan due soon."

Sara looked down at her front, slightly uncomfortable with herself as the subject, not with actually being pregnant.

"Twenty. Ultrasound is today, three o'clock."

"It'll be so cool seeing your baby for the first time. Makes it more real somehow. Least it did for me."

Catherine found herself curiously envious of Sara. After a moments thought she knew that it wasn't that she wanted to be pregnant or have another child, but that she had realised that her choice about having another child was coming to an end. Fertility after thirty-five dropped significantly and she wouldn't be seeing forty again. Pity in a way. Warrick would make a great dad.

"It already seems very real to me. But that's because it's moving around so much. It's really weird."

Catherine laughed in remembrance.

"I know! I used to lie in the tub and watch the bumps and knocks of the baby's elbows or heels move across my stomach. Terrifying and awesome."

Sara looked out of the passenger window and into the night, oddly moved by what Catherine had said. Terrifying and awesome. The responsibility of looking after another life, in one capacity or another, for the rest of her life. A lot like being in love.

It was a sobering thought.

Sara was aware that Catherine was still talking and zoned back into the conversation just as the older woman asked if she would bring the scan picture in.

"Sure, probably. But I'm not pinning it on the noticeboard. It's still very personal."

"Of course. Grissom would freak anyway."

Sara smiled, nodding.

"Yeah, in case it was a boy and anyone spotted that it had his…nose."

Both women looked at each other for a long beat then burst out laughing.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara stopped by Grissom's office on her way home. He was on the telephone but waved her to a seat and briskly wound up the call.

"…thanks again, Nick. I owe you one."

Grissom paused to hear the other party's response then smiled briefly.

"I'm sure you will."

He hung up the handset and looked at Sara, his eyes warm.

"Off home?"

Sara nodded. To her, home was now wherever Grissom was with her, so she felt the need to clarify what she meant.

"My apartment."

"Oh."

Grissom was aware of feeling disappointed but hoped that he had hidden it from Sara. For a moment he had assumed that she meant the townhouse. She had her own key and stayed more often than not, but it had not escaped his notice that she had not made any real effort to 'move in' with him. Aside from a few toiletries and some spare work clothes, there was nothing to show that anyone else was living there. He opened his mouth to ask her why this was so, when there was a knock on the open office door. He looked up and Sara turned her head as Greg came in. Greg nodded to Sara, and then looked at Grissom.

"I'd like to speak to you, is this a bad time?"

Greg saw Grissom glance at Sara, presumably to see if they had finished whatever they were discussing.

Sara smiled at Greg as she got to her feet.

"No, we're done. Grissom, see you tonight. Greg, likewise."

Sara turned to go and heard Greg ask if it was okay with Grissom if he came in early for a couple of hours and have some practice at dusting and lifting prints, for the next stage of his field work.

Grissom saw no immediate reason why not – other than he would rather be with Sara - until it occurred to him to ask about the time Greg had in mind.

"About two?"

Grissom didn't need to see Sara frantically shake her head behind Greg to remember why the time was unsuitable.

"Sorry, I have something on at three, but if you can come in later it would suit me better. How about seven?"

Greg looked faintly surprised that Grissom had any kind of a life away from the lab but quickly nodded in agreement.

"Sure, seven is fine. I'll be here."

Greg turned quickly to leave and nearly ran into Sara, who he thought had already gone. He made his apologies and left the office.

Sara walked back to Grissom's desk. He stood up and turned off the desk lamp. They looked at each other in the semi dark.

"You want to meet there, or ?"

Sara didn't get chance to finish. Grissom politely but firmly butted in.

"I need to collect some fresh clothes from my place then I'll join you at your place in about half an hour. We'll get some rest and I'll drive you to the hospital. We're in this together, for better or worse, remember?"

Sara hid her satisfaction behind a small smile as she headed for the door. She deliberately kept her voice low as they stepped out into the corridor, glancing casually around to make sure that they were alone.

"Yes, I remember. Sure we'll sleep?"

Grissom's dryly-amused voice was just as quiet as he shut the door to his office.

"No doubt whatsoever. Just can't promise when."

Sara was still smiling as they walked out to their respective vehicles, just colleagues leaving work at the same time as they had done so often in the past. It was light out, still reasonably cool but promising to be another hot day.

They climbed into their vehicles and Grissom waited until Sara had started her engine and pulled away before he drove off. Sara smiled widely. Her husband was a very sweet man given half a chance.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Come on, drink up."

Sara looked at her husband and scowled. To think that she had thought him 'sweet'. He looked every inch the tyranical Supervisor; there was hardly any husband visible at all. Her resentment increased in proportion to the pressure on her bladder.

"I can't drink any more. My tonsils are afloat. My gills are awash. I'm drowning here."

Grissom looked at her over his glasses, his eyebrows raised at her rebellious tone.

"You don't have any tonsils at your age, and I've never noticed any gills during my extensive exploration of your very attractive un-fishlike body."

He pointed to a paragraph on the letter from the hospital.

"It says here one and a half litres of water. Two more glasses to go. You want to see the baby, don't you? Drink up."

Sara muttered under her breath as she crossed to the sink to fill her glass again. Grissom turned to her, his expression mild.

"Actually that's not technically true. My parents were married before I was born."

Sara managed not to choke as she drank. She kept forgetting how efficient his hearing was these days. She glared at him over the rim of her glass. It didn't have any impact at all.

The last few minutes before they left for the appointment were less than harmonious. Sara might have found it more bearable if she hadn't – correctly – got the impression that Grissom found the whole thing amusing.

Just to add insult to injury, he went and used the bathroom just before they left the townhouse. The sound of running water made Sara cross her legs in desperation.

"You did that deliberately!"

Grissom came up to where Sara was almost hopping from one foot to the other by the front door. He looked surprised by the accusation.

"I did not. I didn't want to miss anything during the scan because I needed to 'go' when I got there."

Sara passed him his jacket with a lot more force than was entirely necessary and glared at him again.

"Well, put it this way buster; you brake suddenly and you get to pick up the tab for cleaning the Denali, okay?"

Grissom wisely kept his amusement hidden as he agreed. He hoped to heaven that they weren't running late in the clinic.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They were running late at the clinic.

The receptionist was apologetic, but they were at least fifteen minutes behind on the appointment times. Sara was worried that her desperation for the toilet would overshadow the first sight of their baby. Grissom watched her go past him for the fourth or fifth time, glaring at both the wall clock and her wristwatch, as if it would have made any difference.

"Sara, come and sit down. You're making everyone nervous."

Sara looked around at the other couples after Grissom's softly spoken statement. Mostly bored men and anxious looking women. She came and sat down beside him, leaned towards him and whispered.

"They are not nervous. The women are worried that they are going to burst, just like I am."

Grissom couldn't help the twitch of his lips at her comment and he risked at sideways look at Sara in the hope that she could see the funny side too.

He was relieved to see that her gaze was warm with impish humour. He took her right hand in his left, threading his fingers through hers and Sara gave him an answering squeeze. They were so busy with the non-verbal communication that they almost missed the nurse's call.

"Mrs. Sara Grissom!"

Judging by the resigned exasperation in the woman's voice, it was not the first time that Sara had been called.

Both she and Grissom looked up. Sara put her hand up like a child and started to get up.

"Oh, that's me. Umm, us. Here."

Grissom noted with mild dismay that they were the focus of everyone's amused attention and it wasn't helped when Sara turned to him and muttered,

"I haven't gotten used to the 'Mrs Grissom' thing yet. I don't hear it enough."

Grissom stood up too, his hand still holding Sara's. Pride replaced his dismay at being the centre of attention. This fabulous woman was with _him_. As they started to follow the Nurse, Grissom looked at his wife and smiled.

"Funny, my mother says the same thing."

"_Grissom!_"

Sara's gaze snapped straight to Grissom's in amused disbelief. She could not believe that he was actually joking about his mother's deafness. His voice was mild as he explained.

"Just because I was reluctant to share my increasing deafness with anyone does not mean that I was ashamed of it. I just didn't know which way that I was going to deal with it. Until I did, it was no one's business but my own."

Sara remembered how shut out she had felt when she finally found out about his otosclerosis and the corrective surgery. She stopped still and turned to him.

"That was fair at the time, typical private 'you'. But I need you to promise me that you will tell me in future if there is anything - "

Grissom interrupted, one of his fingers gentle on Sara's lips.

"I promise. Anything important."

While they were talking they had been moved into an anteroom next to the scan room. The nurse gave Sara a clipboard with a form attached and asked her to complete the details.

"You will be next in. When you're finished, please leave by the other door and return to reception, where we can finish up any paperwork. Any questions?"

Sara and Grissom looked at each other, then back at the nurse.

"No, we're good, thanks."

The nurse left them alone for several minutes, during which time Sara completed the form and signed it. Grissom made no attempt to hide the fact that he was reading it too.

"How did you know that information about me? My blood group and that other 'personal stuff'."

Sara grinned.

"I'm an investigator. I investigated."

"Hmm…I'll let that pass for now."

Grissom leaned forward slightly and tapped the form.

"Aren't you going to mention the otosclerosis under the inherited - "

Sara pulled the clipboard from under his hand.

"I'm not worried about it, and it won't make any difference to me if the scan shows me that the baby has 'I'll be deaf' tattooed on its forehead, I'll still love it."

Grissom didn't doubt it for a moment. He was touched by her vehemence. He was still trying to tell Sara how he felt about it when the scan nurse came to collect them.

Within a few short minutes Sara was up on the bed, her shirt rolled up and her slacks undone and parted, with paper towelling tucked around the material to protect it from the contact gel. Sara was more used to the invasion of her personal space now than prior to her pregnancy, but she did feel oddly exposed with Grissom here. Which was absurd when she considered how much of her that he had seen up close and personal.

Grissom watched with interest from his position beside the head of the bed as the sonographer set up for the scan. The monitor was turned away from the couple. She turned to them, looking mainly at Sara as she took a bottle of gel and upended it, shaking it to move the gel closer to the bottle's nozzle.

"Okay, I guess that you'll know from your prenatal visits already what the scan is about. Do you have any questions?"

As Sara shook her head, Grissom looked at her with mild shock. It had not occurred to him that she was already having prenatal appointments. She hadn't mentioned anything to him about them. She hadn't taken any time at work to go… He felt an idiot. Of course she wouldn't need time off. She obviously went during the day. He was sorry that he had missed them, and actually a little angry that Sara hadn't told him about the appointments.

He managed to set the matter aside for now. He wanted to enjoy sharing this with Sara at least.

"Sorry, this may be a little cold at first."

Sara didn't flinch as the blob of clear gel landed on her stomach. The ultrasound wand was stuck in it without ceremony and moved around, spreading the goo. The sonographer worked for a few moments, moving the wand back and forth over various parts of Sara's belly, pausing here and there. Sara obviously thought that it was taking too long and her hand crept into Grissom's.

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled a little. He was as much in the dark as she was but he knew that he needed to do something.

"Okay."

When the woman finally spoke Sara nearly jumped in surprise. The sonographer turned the monitor so that both Sara and Grissom could see the screen. At first glance the shifting black and white masses didn't really mean anything to either of them, but gradually things began to sort themselves out. With one hand guiding the wand, the technician pointed out various landmarks.

"This here is the spine." She ran a finger along a little row of pearls on the screen. " This is the head, the ribs with the heartbeat – that fluttering here, see? An arm, a leg…do you want to know the baby's sex?"

"No."

Both Sara and Grissom had spoken in unison. They looked at each other, then at the other woman. Grissom spoke for them both.

"We would like it to be a surprise."

Sara nodded in agreement. The sonographer smiled.

"It's funny, but most people don't want to know. One of my patients said that it was like wrapping your own Christmas presents. You already knew what was inside."

She took the measurements of the baby's spinal length and head diameter and a couple of other figures, writing down her findings. She requested a printout photo, then turned to the couple with a smile.

"One last thing. My favourite bit."

She moved the wand a little more with one hand and turned a dial on the monitor with the other. A rapid rhythm filled the air. Sara's grin was ear to ear, her eyes bright. Grissom was fascinated by the sound. It seemed very fast to him, but neither Sara nor the other woman seemed concerned. His gaze flitted between Sara's face, her belly and the screen. This was their baby's heartbeat. Suddenly the baby was _real _for Grissom. It wasn't just a positive pregnancy test – though he'd missed that too – or a rounded tummy or an intellectual exercise. It was a real baby. _His_ baby.

He was speechless.

Sara had not been aware of how concerned she had been about the baby being all right. Now that they had been given the news that all was well she was surprised how much more relieved she felt. Now if she could just make it to a toilet without embarrassing herself she would be one happy woman. She was handed some paper tissues to clean up the gel, and quickly sorted herself out. She swung her legs off the table and Grissom helped her to get down.

Grissom dealt with all the paperwork, paying for the scan and collecting the photoprint of the baby while Sara headed for the facilities with all the reluctance of a teenager going shopping with her Dad's gold card. She was gone a while.

It wasn't until they were in the Denali on the way back to her apartment that Sara had a chance to have a good look at the scan. She held the print in her hands while Grissom drove.

"Catherine was right. It does make a difference."

Grissom didn't need her to explain what she meant.

"Yes. Yes, it does."

Grissom only briefly removed his gaze from the road to Sara. He was acutely aware that he just could not find the words to convey how amazed and humbled he felt at what Sara was going through. He remembered saying once that it was a mother's instinct to protect their offspring. He had just discovered nature's crafty trick. Fathers could feel the same way. He wanted to wrap Sara up and keep her and the baby safe.

One thing he knew for certain. There was no way his child was going to have parents on the opposite side of the country.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grissom looked at his watch and then at Sara's sleeping form. It was time for him to go into work and tutor Greg, but he was reluctant to wake Sara when she could have several more hours sleep. In the end he wrote a short note and left it on her bedside table, so that it would be the first thing that she saw when she woke up.

As Grissom drove to work he realised that he hadn't thought about his missing memories today. Until now, of course. It still annoyed him at times, but he tried not to dwell on the lost time at the cabin and the fact that he felt as if Sara had been there with a stranger.

When he arrived at work he was surprised to find Catherine there. He had expected her to be off enjoying herself with Warrick.

"Catherine?"

Catherine looked up and blew her bangs out of her eyes. She waved a hand with vague annoyance.

"I know, I know. I'm not doing a 'Sara'; I've just come in to collect a bag that I left here last night. Linds needs it tonight and I bought it specially, so…here I am. Going now."

Grissom smiled as Catherine walked past him, bag in hand.

"See you later."

"Don't work Greg too hard."

"Who, me?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara woke up with a start, wondering what had wakened her. She looked at her watch and frowned. She had slept longer than she had intended, but she still had a few hours before she was due into work. She had turned over to get out of bed when she saw Grissom's note. She picked it up and unfolded it.

'_Didn't want to wake you, you look so comfortable. See you later tonight, G. P.S. You are nearly out of milk, eggs and you could do with some bread. Call me if you want me to get anything this evening.'_

Sara half-smiled; he was such a romantic. Not. She climbed out of bed and went for a shower. She would go and get the foodstuffs before Grissom came back prior to returning to work tonight. As she washed her hair Sara ran through a 'to do' list in her head. Food, get some laundry done, tidy up and…something else was bugging her. Oh yeah, get back to Horatio Caine.

After having some fruit to keep her going, Sara picked up her purse, keys and a jacket and left the apartment. She drove to the store, thinking that she would probably buy more than she intended and didn't want to have to carry all that weight back by hand, even though it was only a couple of blocks.

Sara searched in her purse for her cellphone as she walked the few metres from the parking lot to the convenience store. She thought that she would give Grissom a call to let him know that she was doing the shopping, so that he need not. The fact that she wanted to talk to him just to hear his voice was mere coincidence. The cell proved elusive and Sara looked up to walk, only half her mind on the hand searching blindly through the contents of her purse. She gave up on the cell for the moment as she detoured around a car with its engine running parked close to the store, mentally commenting on the laziness of some people not willing to walk the few yards from the lot.

Sara walked in to the store, collected a basket and headed straight for the cold section along the back wall. She was distracted on the way by the egg section in the last aisle and spent a few minutes looking for her usual brand of free-range eggs before heading for the bread section.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grissom watched carefully as Greg followed his instructions and lifted the lid off the fuming tank, standing well back so that the fumes could dissipate. Inside the tank a sheet of Perspex now displayed a couple of white fingerprints where previously there had been none visible. Greg was just lifting the sheet out when Grissom's cell went off. The younger man flinched but didn't drop the sheet, taking it out and laying it on the lab bench as Grissom answered his call.

"Grissom…what's up, Jim?"

Grissom was surprised that Brass would call him now, as he wouldn't be aware that he was actually in the lab. He frowned as he listened to the detective.

"No, I'm at work. Sara? No, she's not here. She's - "

Grissom looked up and caught Greg's eye, realising that he had nearly let the cat out of the bag.

"I expect she's at her place. Have you tried her cell? Is there a problem?"

Greg looked at his boss and mentor. He would later claim, quite truthfully, that he saw Grissom go white with shock.

"Yes, I know the place, it's a couple of blocks from Sara's…what? Are you sure it's hers?"

Grissom stood upright, fear making the epinephrine course around his body, preparing him for fight or flight. A headache blossomed inside his skull and he could feel his pulse throb in his forehead. To Greg he appeared to get bigger somehow.

"Well keep looking! I'll go and check her place. No, I'll call one of the others, you stay where you're needed. Keep me informed."

Grissom closed the cell and pulled open his lab coat, shucking it off without ceremony and throwing it on a lab stool. He paused only long enough to wash his hands automatically after years of ingrained habit.

"Grissom?"

Greg didn't know what was going on, but anything that lit a fire under this man had to be important.

Grissom looked at Greg without really seeing him.

"Brass has been called to a convenience store robbery that's gone wrong. The clerk pushed the alarm and the police got there so quickly that the robber has now holed up in the store with God knows how many hostages."

Grissom paused, the superstitious primitive in him afraid to voice his fear aloud in case it made it true.

"It's near Sara's apartment. Her car is in the parking lot. But she isn't."

Greg looked stricken. He began pulling at his own labcoat and gloves. Grissom hit the speed dial and put his cell to his ear. He listened for a few moments and swore with a fervency that shocked Greg. Grissom hit another button and listened again, starting to walk as he spoke.

"Catherine, I need you to meet me at Sara's place. I don't care…."

He succinctly explained the situation and Catherine immediately stopped her protest. By this time both Grissom and Greg had left the lab and were on their way out to Grissom's Denali. Within moments the SUV tore out of the parking lot with Greg still trying to plug in his seat belt.

Grissom frowned blackly, his head pounding so much it made his teeth hurt. He was berating himself for leaving Sara a note about the food, for not being with her, for not having her at the townhouse and for anything else he could beat himself up about. He felt utterly powerless. Guilt is a terrible thing and if anything bad happened to Sara he would never forgive himself.

Greg felt sick. He thought of all the times that he had talked to Sara even if she had teased him and put him down in favour of Grissom. Not to be able to talk to her again didn't bear thinking about.

Grissom had acquired a mantra; 'Sara's at her place' repeated endlessly through his brain. He desperately needed it to be true. The journey seemed to take forever, but eventually they arrived at Sara's apartment. Grissom looked up and saw that Sara's lights were on, but that didn't mean anything as it had been dark when he left for the lab and he had left the lights on.

The elevator seemed to crawl up the building before finally disgorging Grissom and Greg on Sara's floor. Both men hurried up to the apartment, only to find Catherine banging on the door and ringing the bell. She looked at Grissom with relief.

"There's no answer. Do you have your key?"

Grissom slumped with despair. He remembered leaving the key on the dresser in the bedroom, having put it down to write Sara's note.

"No, I left it here earlier."

Grissom was only peripherally aware of the expression of dawning comprehension on Greg's face. He didn't care anymore. From now on there would be no more secrets. Sara was his wife and if that upset the lab rat, then, so what?

"Do you know if she has a spare one left with a neighbour somewhere?"

Catherine's question made Grissom's head jerk up, a sudden picture in his mind.

"No, she didn't."

He turned to the pot of cacti plants beside the door and unerringly picked the hollow 'stone' cactus. He scooped it up, peeled off the lid and shook out the spare key, and then quickly used it to undo the door. The three of them entered the apartment, seeing in a glance that Sara was not in the main room. Grissom hurried through to the bedroom in the hope that she was asleep.

The bed was empty.

Greg and Catherine could tell from his expression that Sara was not there. Catherine looked puzzled as she looked at the fake cactus still in Grissom's hands.

"Grissom, how did you know that there was a key in that thing?"

He turned to Catherine, his mind only half on what he was saying.

"I found it the night Sara broke a vase - "

Grissom's voice cut off abruptly as an excruciating band of pain tightened around his skull. He dropped the fake cacti as he brought his hands up to his head in shock, convinced for a moment that he was having a stroke or something. The pain was phenomenal.

But suddenly, along with the pain there were flashes of memory, fractions of pictures adding themselves, more and more, like a river of jigsaw pieces, each building on the last until the river became a torrential flood; Sara, all Sara. In the cabin kitchen, the hot tub, on their wedding day, eating soup, laughing, lying under him in the rain, silk, bed, pie, love, so much love, dear God he couldn't take it all in, it was too much, too much! Make it stop!

"No! I can't – stop!"

He was unaware that he had spoken aloud as he held his head, his eyes squeezed shut to try to stem the flow of images.

"Grissom? Gil? Gil!"

Catherine's alarmed cry was lost on the man who had fallen to his knees under the weight of his reacquired memories. His brain couldn't absorb it all in one go and shut down in self-defence. Grissom collapsed, out cold.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Brass was sheltering behind a short wall several metres away from the convenience store. The night gave them the advantage, they could see in, but probably little could be seen of them from inside the store. The situation was at an impasse while they were waiting to see which way the situation was going to go with the negotiator.

He was talking on his radio, when he heard one of the older policemen say in a calm quiet voice.

"There is movement."

Brass put his radio to his mouth and sent out a general warning to the waiting police. No sudden moves. Think of the hostages. He tried not to think of Sara. He raised his weapon in his right hand, just in case.

Without any warning several shots were heard from inside the store. The marksman fired one single shot in. There was a sudden ear-achingly-quiet lull.

Brass' radio squawked, making him jump.

"The man is down. The man is down. There are casualties."

Brass swore aloud, then used his radio.

"Hold your positions! No one is to move in until the place has been cleared. Hold your position!"

He prayed on everything that was holy that, by some miracle, Sara was all right. Anything other than that good news, was not something that he wanted to give to Grissom.

Ten more minutes elapsed while the building was checked for further accomplices. None were found and Brass finally got the go ahead to move in.

With his heart in his mouth, Brass walked towards the store.

TBC.


	11. Last Chance 19

Disclaimer: CSI is not mine, characters used and voluntarily abused. No animals were harmed, though I could overlook Ecklie getting bashed if I absolutely had to.

Title: Last Chance, chapter 19

Author: hazeleyes57

Rating: R (NC17 version on Moggie's site and as usual)

A/N: Probably the penultimate chapter, so thank you for all your kind comments, it's been fun. Wherever you are, peace, and may your God(s) go with you.

**Last Chance (19)**

"I think he's okay, he just blacked out."

Greg's opinion mirrored Catherine's own thoughts as she looked at Grissom. She had placed him in the recovery position on the floor with Greg's help, and with the notable exception that he wasn't awake, Grissom seemed to be fine. He was pale, but he was breathing okay and his pulse was regular.

From her position kneeling on the floor, Catherine looked at Greg.

"Why is it that women faint, but men 'black out'?"

Greg's concern for Grissom faded slightly in the presence of Catherine's humour, based on the principal that if he were in trouble, she wouldn't be joking around. One side of his lips quirked upwards briefly.

"More macho. Men do not faint _ever_. Just not done."

Catherine shook her head silently.

"Yeah, I get it." She looked closely at Grissom again. "I'll give him a few more minutes and if he doesn't wake up, we'll call for an ambulance."

Greg nodded, not that his agreement was needed. He looked from Catherine to Grissom. Now that he knew for sure about Sara and Grissom, lots of pointers suddenly fell into place. Grissom's anger when Sara had been on that ladder in the storeroom was the first thing that came to mind.

"How long have you known?"

"Known what? That we should call for an ambulance?"

Greg frowned and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. He indicated Grissom with his chin.

"We both know that you're not stupid, so please don't insult my intelligence either. Not cool."

Catherine rested back on her legs and looked up at the young man again, her demeanour sympathetic but not revealing.

"Why don't you tell me what you think it is that I know?"

Greg took one hand out of his pocket and waved to indicate the whole of Sara's apartment.

"Sara and Grissom. I figured ages ago that he had a thing for her and she had something going for him, I just didn't know that they had…" He didn't finish, then sighed with resignation. "You assumed that he would have a key."

Catherine got to her feet and brushed her pants down. She looked at Greg until he looked away.

" Why don't you get on to Brass and find out what's happening at the store, see if there is any news on Sara."

Greg had his cell out before Catherine had finished speaking and dialled Brass' number. He knew Catherine well enough to know when to quit. As he was waiting for a connection he wondered if this was what Nick had been trying to warn him about.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Brass stood a few feet away from the dark haired body lying beside the cashier's desk. Even after all his years on the force and with the CSI department, he still couldn't get used to the senseless waste of a life. He thought that perhaps he should be grateful that it still touched him, still touched part of his humanity that he hadn't had ground down by the job.

The paramedics were finished with the survivors; other customers caught up in the attempted robbery and the short-lived exchange of fire. Brass already had a picture of what had happened from their statements. One youth, fired up by watching too many cop shows, had tried to 'jump' the gunman, causing him to panic and start shooting. Three people had been wounded, one serious enough to be causing concern, and two with flesh wounds.

And one dead.

Brass turned to walk out of the store and back to his car. Good guy, bad guy, whatever, it was still a Godawful job telling the family that someone wasn't coming back. He got out his cell and started to dial.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"It's busy. I'll try again in a minute."

Greg closed his phone and looked around Sara's apartment. It had the stamp of her personality, but there wasn't anything that reminded him of Grissom here. Were they actually together or not?

Catherine frowned, a little alarmed.

"Brass wouldn't be using his cell if the siege were still in place. It must be over one way or another. Give - "

A cellphone started to ring and both Catherine and Greg checked their own then looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Not me."

"Nor me."

They both looked at the oblivious man on the floor and then each other. Greg pointed in Grissom's general direction.

"Catherine?"

She knelt back down and started looking through Grissom's jacket for his cellphone. She glanced at Greg as she searched.

"Why assume I'll get it?"

The younger man looked shocked, putting his hand to his chest for emphasis.

"Me? Go through the Boss' pockets? I don't think so. You're his good bud. He won't kill you if he wakes up and finds you rifling in his pockets. Me, I'm not so sure."

Catherine's search became a little more frantic. She was concerned that whoever it was might stop ringing. Finally she found the cellphone in an inside pocket and managed to get it to her ear in time.

"Hello? Yes. That you, Brass?"

Catherine pulled a face and looked at Grissom's recumbent body.

"Grissom isn't available right now. What's the news?"

Greg was aware that he was holding his breath. He couldn't tell from Catherine's face what was going on. She listened for a few moments and her shoulders suddenly slumped.

"What? You're sure? Yeah, yeah, I know, but I had to ask. Okay, I'll tell Grissom. Keep us posted."

Catherine' looked up at Greg's anxious face as she snapped the cell closed and returned it to the nearest pocket of Grissom's jacket.

"Well?"

Catherine checked Grissom again as she answered.

"Three wounded, one serious, and one dead kid. But Sara wasn't there."

"What?"

"Sara was not in the store. Wherever she is, she isn't on her way to hospital with the others."

Greg looked relieved.

"I take that as positive news. Great news even. So where is she?"

"Good question. But speaking of hospital, I think we should - "

Catherine was interrupted by a groan from Grissom. She looked at him, shaking her head.

"Talk about great timing Gil."

She gave him a smile as his eyes opened and he tried to focus; she didn't offer him assistance to sit up, but held him still with one hand.

"Ah ah, don't try to get up for a minute. Get your bearings first, okay?"

Grissom's 'bearings' arrived in very short order as he rolled over on to his back. It was very uncomfortable so he pushed himself upright, fighting a wave of dizziness. He remained still until the feeling passed, taking the opportunity to have a quick 'flick' through his reacquired memories. Only a brief glimpse made him realise with horror what he had unwittingly put Sara through. For a split second he wondered why they were in her apartment, then the sick dizziness returned when he thought of the hold up. He looked at Catherine for information. Although he had chance to prevent his first thought from being expressed, he did not do so.

"Sara?"

Grissom didn't like the way that Catherine glanced quickly at Greg before answering. Was she subtly warning him that he was allowing Greg to find out about his and Sara's relationship? No matter. Nothing stayed secret for long.

"Not exactly sure. She wasn't in the store and isn't among the casualties."

Grissom's relief was profound that Sara hadn't been involved in the situation. That kind of stress wouldn't be good for her or their baby. The thought of what they had both been through already was bad enough without a siege on top of it. He rubbed his temple with one hand as he tried to think what to do next. He had a killer of a headache. He became aware that both Catherine and Greg appeared to be waiting for him to say something. He would have to review his restored memories later. He had to deal with the practical now.

"Anyone tried ringing her cell?"

Catherine nodded.

"We tried once on the way here but there was no answer."

Greg interjected quickly.

"We left a message."

Grissom looked at them both as he climbed to his feet. He brushed at his clothing to cover the fact that he wanted to sit back down and let the room stop turning before he did anything else. He cloaked his panic about Sara with brisk efficiency. He patted his jacket pocket for his cell and looked mildly puzzled when he found in a different pocket to where he was expecting it. He opened the cell and pressed the speed dial for Sara.

"So we try again. Maybe she didn't hear. Or she was in a dead zone, or…"

Greg jumped in startled surprise when the sound of a big angry bee came from the kitchenette work surface beside him. He gingerly lifted an open magazine to reveal Sara's cell vibrating away to itself underneath. He looked at Grissom.

"…Or she could have left her cell behind."

Grissom closed his cell and put it away. He looked around the room and frowned.

"Okay. Sara needed some groceries and took the car. She got as far as the parking lot, and may or may not have gone into the siege store. There are other stores there, but if Sara were in one of them, the furore would have made her make her presence known to Brass. So she wasn't in the vicinity, ergo, she had left without the car. No car, no cell, she'll probably be walking."

He looked at the other two and they both nodded in agreement. He pulled his car keys out of his pants pocket.

"Catherine, stay here in case we miss her. Greg, you take the Denali and go to the store by the shortest route, and I'll start walking."

Greg caught the keys mid-air as Catherine mildly protested.

"Wouldn't it be better if you drove and Greg walked?"

Grissom turned back to Catherine.

"Maybe if I hadn't blacked out, but I've only been conscious for a few minutes…what?"

Catherine had smirked briefly but she just shook her head.

"No, it's okay, you're right. You'd better get going."

Greg was closest to the door; he turned and collected his jacket as Grissom went through to the bedroom to retrieve his forgotten key. Standing beside Sara's bed brought back some very special memories for Grissom and despite his concern about her whereabouts, he smiled briefly as he added the key to his own.

Back in the living room Greg opened the front door and nearly had a heart attack when Sara and her shopping practically fell in through the doorway, her outstretched hand holding a door key.

Both parties gaped at each other for a split second until Sara frowned.

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment and how did you get in?"

Catherine crossed to the door with relief, not quite elbowing Greg aside.

"Sara! You're all right!"

Sara looked at the two of them as if they were insane. She crossed to the kitchenette work counter and placed her groceries down. Very warm from her enforced walk, she shrugged out of her jacket and hung it up as she tried to figure out why she had unexpected company. Had Grissom given them his key? She wished he would keep her up to speed on these things. She felt hot, tired and irritated.

"Yeah, last time I looked, although brown bagging it for three blocks because the car wouldn't start hasn't made me happy. What's up with you gu -?"

She broke off as Grissom came out of her bedroom having been alerted by the commotion. Sara's mood improved slightly when she realised that he hadn't given her spare key to anyone else after all. She didn't know how to react to his presence in front of the other two. Were they here 'officially' or as friends?

Grissom's relief at seeing Sara safe obvious. Buoyed up by his retrieved memories, for a few seconds he drank in the sight of his _wife_. Then, close on the heels of his relief was the anger that she had given him such a fright.

Catherine saw his expression and instantly realised that this was one conversation that didn't need an audience. Mindful of Greg – who was practically taking notes - standing behind her in the doorway, she turned to Sara. Her voice was overly bright, designed to distract both Grissom's ire from Sara and Greg's attention from Grissom.

"We were all concerned when we realised that there was a possibility that you were caught up in the store robbery/ hostage situation. We just had to come out and assure ourselves that you were okay. And here you are, all okay. So we'll go. Greg, Grissom will need the keys to his Denali back."

Despite Catherine's efforts, Greg had noticed enough to ensure that he didn't try to throw the car keys back to Grissom. He put them on the counter next to the grocery bags and turned to Sara. She hadn't moved yet, still waiting for Grissom's lead. Greg smiled, genuinely pleased that she was all right.

"You might want to call Brass and let him know that you're okay."

Sara looked at Greg, still a little baffled about the whole store/hostage/keys situation. However, the easiest thing to do to facilitate his exit would be to agree, then she could deal with Grissom. She nodded.

"Sure. Ring Brass."

Catherine turned toward the still open front door, then looked back over her shoulder to Grissom.

"We'll see you later."

She was almost treading on Greg's heels as she 'helped' him out of the apartment, closing the door behind her. The silence left behind was deafening. Grissom crossed the room with alacrity and took hold of Sara's shoulders and barked.

"Don't ever do that to me again!"

He pulled the startled Sara into his arms and hung on, unable to express his relief in any other way. After several long moments his embrace relaxed enough for Sara to pull her head back to look at him. She could see he was pale.

"What the hell is going on?"

Grissom looked at Sara's face as if he hadn't seen her for ages, which in a way he hadn't. He looked at her with the eyes and heart of a man who had fallen in love with her months ago, even before their sojourn to his cabin. He looked down at her rounded belly between them and thought of the baby they had made. However this had started out was irrelevant, this was how it was now. His relieved anger dissipated slowly.

"Say something, Grissom."

He brought a hand up to touch her cheek with fingers that trembled slightly. God, if he had lost her now that he had finally found himself!

"Gris - oh!"

Grissom had slid his hand from Sara's cheek to around the back of her neck and used it to pull her into a kiss that made her melt. He took advantage of the fact that her exclamation had left her lips conveniently parted and dived in for a taste of heaven. He used his free hand to hold her to him in case she had any thoughts about escaping – not just because he loved to hold her butt any time that he could.

Sara had a whole host of questions but Grissom seemed a little short on the answers right now. Although her curiosity was piqued about recent events she was enjoying herself far too much to interrupt him. He must have had some kind of shock that made him fear for her safety because he was behaving as if she had been rescued from the jaws of Hell. Her own internal imp of mischief immediately gave thought to the idea of frightening him more often if this was the result. After several blissful moments, they parted for air. Sara searched his face. Her vision was filled by the tautness of his expression and the heat in his probing gaze. Her heart began to knock against her ribs and the telltale tingle stirred in the pit of her stomach. She tried to stay focused.

"Talk to me, honey."

Grissom ate her up with his eyes. He was a mess of confused feelings and extremes of emotion; from elation that he hadn't lost her to misery that he might in the future. His residual anger leant force to his courtship. The profound desire to lose himself in the pleasure of her body didn't surprise him. Nature's urge to try to procreate after any threat of loss of life explained the rise in birth rate within a year of any major conflict. The fact that Sara was already pregnant didn't diminish the desire one iota. Grissom pulled her hips to his as best as he could around the bump. The urge to just take her was difficult to resist. He searched her face again.

"You have no idea how worried - " He interrupted himself. "Can we talk later?"

Sara was sufficiently aware to think that there were other things that they should be doing right now, but if this was important enough for Grissom to ask her first, then it should be a priority. She hadn't even finished nodding before his lips descended upon the side of her neck and her breath sucked in at the heat of him. She felt Grissom's arms tighten around her, one big hand pushing against her from behind. She breathed deep, taking him into her lungs and the scent of him was enough to make her toes curl with delight. She felt a hot rush under her skin and all her muscles tensed. After all this time she was still surprised at the effect he had on her and she moaned with pleasure.

Grissom was too hot. He briefly released Sara to shrug out of his jacket, dropping it on the floor without thought. He reclaimed her against him and dropped his lips to her exposed collarbone. Her warm scent rose up from her dampened skin and drew him back for more, again and again. Anticipation became a hot and thick pressure that coiled through him, daring him to go on and satisfy himself in her honeyed sweetness. He was already hard for her and again he had to pull himself back from the demands of his own desire. In his imagination he was already ripping Sara's clothes off and taking what he wanted. He tugged at the collar of her blouse, pulling it down so that he could get to more of her skin. He came to a halt far too soon and gave up that angle of attack in frustration. He slipped his hand up under the top instead and cupped a breast, flicking the already tight nub at its tip with his thumb. Sara gasped aloud; her eyes flying open in shock at the strength of the sensation, even through her bra.

Just as she was trying to catch her breath, Grissom captured her full lower lip with his, sucking it into his mouth. He toyed with the soft flesh, nibbling with his teeth and soothing with his tongue. It was mesmerising and Sara leaned into the kiss, angling her head to improve the contact. The kiss went on and on and she didn't want it to stop. She felt her thighs and ass tense as Grissom's other hand kneaded one side of her butt, but she still couldn't get as close to him as she wanted – needed – to do. Raw heat pulsed through Sara and she moaned in dismay when Grissom broke off for much needed air.

They were both breathing heavily, snatching at oxygen. Grissom had already realised that it would be impossible for them to try anything standing up face to face until after the baby was born. He took a deep breath and stood back from Sara. She looked at him in dazed confusion and tried to pull him back into her grasp. He shook his head as he took one of her hands in his.

"Not here."

He tugged her over towards the front door, which he locked and bolted, and then they both headed in the direction of the bedroom. To a disinterested observer it would be difficult to determine who was pulling whom, but at least they managed not to get jammed in the doorway together. Seconds later Grissom stood Sara beside the bed, took her in his arms and smirked.

"Here."

He kissed her lips very thoroughly until her hands going up under his shirt distracted him. He pulled back to look at her and she stared back at him, trying to hide her amusement.

"You're not going to stop this time, are you?"

Grissom shook his head once.

"I'm not stopping this time, even if it kills me."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara pushed back into Grissom one last time, grinding herself onto him to prolong the last few seconds of pleasure. She grinned as she unlocked her fingers from the bedhead. Damn, but that had been special. She shifted slightly, feeling full and sated as she felt Grissom's damp head against her spine while they caught their breath.

Sara pulled the pillows out from beneath her and placed them back into the more usual arrangement. Grissom still rested against her as his breathing slowed. Finally both of them lay down, spoon-fashion, with Sara in front. Grissom wrapped an arm around her and sighed with satisfaction. He mumbled almost under his breath, already half asleep.

"Love you, Sara Grissom."

Sara smiled even though he couldn't see it and patted his hand on her belly.

"I love you too, Gil. Always will."

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Grissom came to with a start. He had only closed his eyes for a moment and had slipped into sleep unaware of doing so. Sara was still spooned against his front, his right arm across her and his hand resting on her bare stomach. He thought for a moment that she was asleep too, but she dispelled that theory when she looked over her right shoulder at him.

"Don't panic, we're okay for time."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep. Are you okay?"

Sara rolled onto her back and faced her husband, settling comfortably as he tangled a leg between hers. She was amused to see that Mr Insatiable was side tracked by her breasts.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm not insulted that you fell asleep more or less straight after making love to me, I was kinda tired myself after all that wicked pleasure."

Grissom huffed in amusement as he gently ran his palm over Sara's abdomen. The light and probably ticklish touch raised gooseflesh on her skin. He looked into her eyes.

"That's one of the many things that I love about you."

Sara looked vaguely puzzled so he elaborated.

"You have never left me with the impression that you are just doing this for me. You get just as much pleasure out of this as I do."

Sara smirked.

"I'll say."

"Do you have any idea how sexy that is? How much I'm turned on by knowing that you are aroused by me?"

Sara looked up at him, her smirk changing to a soft smile. It must have been some fright he had. She touched his face with her fingers, lightly scraping her nails through his short beard.

"Yeah, I have some idea. As sexy as you make me feel knowing that I can get you hard by just looking at you across a room, or by bending over to pick something up."

Grissom backed up to look at her, amusement warring with uncertainty on his face.

"That makes me sound shallow. Am I that bad?"

"No. It's not as if every woman in the department can do it to you, is it?"

Grissom looked very thoughtful for several moments, then grinned when Sara pretended to swipe at him. He caught her hand in his and kissed the fingers, one by one.

"No. No one else makes me feel the way that you do. Bending over or otherwise."

"That's okay then. I thought that I was going to have to get unpleasant."

Grissom nuzzled into Sara's neck, making her wriggle and laugh at the ticklish sensation as he breathed out on her flesh.

"You? Unpleasant? That I would have to see."

Sara wriggled again, trying to get away from Grissom's lips, pretending that they were not doing anything but annoying her.

"Pack that in. And that! Haha – NO! I mean it! Griiisom! We don't have time! Stoppit!"

She ruined her argument by laughing aloud, but Grissom stopped anyway. He grinned down at her, then dived in for a quick kiss.

"Okay, okay, I'll quit. For now. Up you get Mama, and I'll get you something to eat while you have a shower."

Sara rolled out of the bed and quickly reached for her robe, not entirely because of the cool air. Naked, Grissom got out of his side of the bed in time to meet her coming around the end of it. He reached out to lift her chin with his right hand, and looked her in the eyes.

"In case I don't say it enough, I'd like to remind you that I love you. Every inch of you. And even if there are a few more inches here and there, that just gives me more to love, okay?"

Sara smiled, touched that he had noticed something that she hadn't really even put into words in her own head. How he had changed from the insensitive Supervisor that had asked her to throw out the rancid meat.

"Yeah, okay…and thanks."

"Oh, it's my pleasure, believe me."

It was while he was cooking and Sara was in the shower that Grissom examined his motives for not telling Sara that he had his memory back. He had been going to tell her as soon as the others left but he had been distracted by his need for her and he had not got around to saying anything. But now he realised that he needed a little time to go through his memories. He wanted to completely understand where they were 'at' now. In an instant he was back there, standing in the main room. He remembered reassuring Sara that the dust would settle, and they had looked at each other's wedding bands, shiny and new on their fingers. He recalled his almost offhand proposal to Sara. He frowned. She deserved more than that.

"What's up?"

Grissom looked up from stirring the vegetable soup, not anticipating that Sara would be out of the bathroom already. She was towelling her hair dry, her head tipped to one side.

"Nothing, why?"

"You were frowning."

Grissom didn't want to spoil the surprise for a reworked proposal, especially as he had not figured out what he was going to do yet. Jeez, he hadn't even thought of an engagement ring.

"Was I?"

He scrabbled for a plausible reason for his frown. Inspiration struck.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you had given any thought to colours for the baby's room."

Sara stopped towelling her hair. She looked at Grissom. He wasn't sure what her expression meant, but he wasn't reassured by it.

"Which one?"

"Which one what?"

"Which room for the baby? Here or at your place?"

Grissom was sure that he must look shocked. Sara's question had brought into focus another of his concerns and now his insecurity reared its ugly head again.

"Mine, of course. I didn't realise that you would be doing a room here…I assumed that…we…that you and I would…"

He floundered to a halt. At least Sara was sparing him the ' assume makes an ass out of you and me' lecture. He knew that prior to his accident Sara had been going to move into the townhouse. She already had her own set of keys. He couldn't make that known without revealing that his memory was back. Did that mean that she had changed her mind about moving in? Was that why she hadn't left much of her stuff at his place? They were married for Crissake!

"You and I would what? Move in together? You aren't even sure if I'm staying here in Vegas."

Relief flooded through Grissom and he pushed his doubts aside. Even without his memory he knew that Sara would not have left for Miami on her own. With his memory back he was certain of it. Conversations about family and what it constituted had been discussed at the cabin and he knew that Sara would want her child – their child – to have both parents around.

"Yes I am, and yes, you are staying, but not here."

Sara gaped at Grissom, her wet hair forgotten.

"Just what in Hell's that sup - "

" You told me to come back when I had figured it out. I figured, so I'm back." Grissom turned the heat off from under the soup, and transferred the fragrant liquid to two warm bowls. "I'm sorry I let my doubts undermine me, I should have listened to my inner voice, as you said. You are my wife. I want us to be together. Screw work."

Sara looked at him for a long moment, her eyes wide, then wrapped her hair up in the towel, turban style. She crossed to the kitchenette bar and seated herself down beside one of the soup bowls.

"So that's it, I just move in? Pack up my apartment and haul ass over to your place?"

While she waited for a reply, Sara picked up a warmed bread roll and her spoon. Her stomach rumbled hungrily so she bit into the roll and spooned up some of the soup. It was delicious.

"That would be fine, but I wondered if you wanted my former study redecorated before you move in, so you wouldn't have to breathe the paint fumes."

Grissom had not actually thought of any of this and was winging it by the seat of his pants. He blithely ignored the fact that he had not actually asked Sara to move in with him this time; he had just told her that it was what she was going to do. But it made sense to him and it wasn't as if they had not discussed it before the accident. He took the barstool opposite Sara and picked up his own spoon. Such was his anticipation about her reply that he barely tasted the soup. He remembered the tension-filled meal of soup after their arrival at his cabin. Different kind of tension back then.

"Yellow."

"Sorry?"

Sara's smile was bemused. Had he really said ' screw work'?

"Yellow. Warm, sunny, gender neutral."

Grissom couldn't hide his relief, his smile reaching his eyes. He leaned across to take Sara's hand in his own.

"So how did Caine take your refusal?"

Sara grinned; reassured that he really had got it this time.

"Oh, he agreed that I was mad. But he could see that there were obviously things that were keeping me in Vegas. He did say that if I should ever find myself accompanying an eminent entomologist to Florida – for whatever reason – I should give him a call."

Grissom's appetite was suddenly restored. He gave Sara's hand a final squeeze and picked up his spoon.

"I guess we could do that. If we were ever out that way."

Sara smiled to herself as she ate. She hadn't missed the possessive emphasis on the 'we'.

It looked like she would be moving.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara gave notice on her apartment the following day. Her landlord nearly took her arm off at the elbow; he had potential tenants on a waiting list. He readily agreed to forgo the usual three-month notice. It gave her four weeks to leave, so when she wasn't at work or sleeping she took her time sorting through her 'stuff'. She was surprised at how much she had accumulated in the last few years, but happily thinned a lot of it out, and arranged for several things to go to goodwill. Her car was towed to a repair shop and the fault in the ignition system was fixed. Grissom had finally got around to filling her in on the store robbery and hostage situation and her first night back at work had been interrupted several times by people wanting to know what had happened and how she had managed to avoid getting caught up in it all. In the end she was grateful for the distraction of a call out, and thankful when she and Warrick arrived at the scene that Brass seemed to realise that she didn't want to go over the whole non-event again - he had merely greeted her with a nod as usual.

Grissom decided that he was not going to get a decorator in to paint the baby's room. This was the only child he was going to have and he was going to take the time to experience as many aspects of fatherhood as he was able. The scan had made the baby more real to Grissom. Standing in the doorway of his cleared and stripped study with a tin in one hand, a brush and a roller in the other, he thought about how his life had taken an unexpected path, one he was in many respects unprepared for. Marriage and fatherhood, two things that he had never seriously considered would involve him. He frowned; he was sure he'd thought that before today. But he meant what he said when he proposed to Sara. She was the missing part of him.

As Grissom opened the tin and loaded the brush with paint, he gave some thought to how he was going to make up to Sara for his low-key proposal. He did concede that maybe she didn't want or need anything 'made up' and she was happy with the original, but he wanted to do more. 'This' Grissom's proposal instead of 'that' Gil's one. As he slowly worked his way around the edge of the room 'cutting in' from the baseboard and around the light switch, he gave the matter some thought. Painting was nice and 'mindless' and it gave him space and time to think.

Sara drove back to her apartment at the end of the shift, making a quick detour on the way. She made a small meal but was too tired after she had eaten it to do much else other than fall into bed and sleep. She was still mentally packing when her head hit the pillow and had just got to what to do about her computer when she went out like a light.

After several hours of slightly restless sleep, Sara awoke naturally before her alarm and climbed out of bed with some effort. Who needed an alarm clock when they had a microscopic bladder? As she got up she cancelled the alarm, then used the facilities, showered and had some lunch. She dressed for 'packing' and went into her bedroom. With her hands on her disappearing hips she surveyed the room. She had already sorted the books to go out for good, so she started on boxing the remainder. Jack Vettriano's collection was near the beginning of the shelf and being in no particular hurry, Sara flicked through the pages, stopping here and there until she got to 'Game On'. The picture would always make her think of Grissom and the cabin. And that earth shatteringly wonderful assault to her senses that had happened here in this room. The fact that it had ended badly was forgotten, overlaid now by the knowledge that he had only stopped because he thought that it had been what she wanted.

With a sigh, Sara continued to pack things that she wouldn't need for the next few weeks at least. By late afternoon she was pleased with the amount that had been dealt with. She decided to have a soak in the tub after all her work. As she relaxed, she wondered how Grissom was doing with the painting. It was thoughtful of him to paint the nursery before she moved in and it reminded her of the way Gil had behaved up at the cabin. In fact, now she thought about it, Grissom's behaviour was more and more reminiscent of the man she came to know at the cabin. The lines of distinction between the two seemed to be blurring. There were whole minutes that passed where Sara actually forgot that Grissom had lost his memory. Maybe this was what the hospital had meant when they said that his memories might return gradually over a period of time. She couldn't assume that he would recover everything, not after all this time, so she had decided a while ago to try to make it up to Grissom by giving him new ones. To this end she had stopped off on the way back from work and bought something that she was going to share with him, something that he had missed out on the first time.

Sara lazily sponged warm water over her stomach. She hadn't filled the tub enough to cover her bump while she was lying down and she couldn't be bothered to move to add more water. Her stomach looked like an island surrounded by bubbles and when the baby moved around periodically, an elbow or a heel made an extra little lump move across the 'island'. It was really weird and Sara just had to look at it from the viewpoint that it meant the baby was okay. Even if it did remind her of the movie 'Alien'.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sara drove skilfully around the dithering vehicle in front of her and moved back into her lane. She didn't need to see the out of state licence plates to recognise tourists, they always drove slowly, anxious to see the sights, even in the daylight. She glanced quickly at the package on the passenger seat, and then returned her attention to the traffic in front of her. Last night at work Grissom had discretely let her know that the former study – now the baby's bedroom – was ready for inspection. He had also suggested that they take some time to look into the sort of furniture that would be required for the room. Sara's first impulse had been to say no, not yet, but she had remained silent, not wishing to shoot down the suggestion out of hand. Her prolonged silence had made Grissom remind her that he had only suggested that they look at ideas, not actually make any purchases yet. He was aware that Sara didn't want to tempt fate by getting too much too soon.

So here she was, on her way over to Grissom's, ready for some window-shopping. She smiled. Only one thing better than spending your own money, and that was spending someone else's.

Grissom looked around his living area. It had been reworked around the fact that his study contents now had to be incorporated into his living space. His home computer and his box files now resided in the corner that had held his dining table and his drawing board. He had moved the dining table into the centre of the room. It was a mild irritation to have the aesthetic lines of the room altered, but it was in a good cause and he reasoned that what he could not alter, he would have to live with.

_They_ would have to live with.

Somehow it made it bearable. Grissom took one final look, then looked at his watch. Sara should be here any minute. He felt oddly nervous, ridiculous when he thought about it, but nervous nonetheless. God, he hadn't even asked her to move in, he had just told her. He was doing this all wrong. The pregnancy, then a marriage, then she moves in, _then_ the proposal? He ran his hands over his face and beard, trying to calm himself. He had faced down armed felons with more equanimity than he possessed right now.

Grissom didn't quite jump out of his skin when the doorbell rang, but it was a close thing. He hurried to the door and opened it, pleased and relieved that Sara was standing there.

"Sara. Why didn't you use your key?"

Sara stepped into the hallway and allowed Grissom to close the door behind her. She then ambushed him and gave him a hug and a kiss that scrambled his brain. When she released him she stepped back and smiled at his dazed expression.

"I'll use them when I live here. It will be a distinction between then and now. Cool?"

"Umm…very."

Grissom managed to gather enough brain matter to offer Sara a drink and they both had a ginger and lemon presse, ideal for keeping the stomach settled. They talked while they enjoyed the drink, but Sara was amused to see that Grissom's eyes kept straying to the package she had brought with her. In the end she took pity on him. With a small grin she placed the plain white paper bag on the table in front of her husband.

"Honey, I stopped off at the pharmacy on the way home."

Grissom opened the bag and peered inside. He quickly looked up at Sara then back into the bag. He looked slightly puzzled, but a small grin played around his lips as he reached in a pulled out a pregnancy test kit.

Sara put her hand on Grissom's arm and he looked askance at her. She tried to look serious, but failed miserably, barely hiding her amusement.

"I think that I might be pregnant."

Grissom's lips twitched with the effort not to grin. He was tremendously touched that she had thought of this. Sara had realised - just as he had with the decorating - that this was likely to be their only child, and that he was unlikely ever to be in this position again. He looked up from the kit, straightfaced.

"Gee, but we were so careful."

Sara grinned widely, pleased that Grissom 'got it'.

"Well, nothing's foolproof honey. I guess we'd better find out for sure."

Grissom was already undoing the shrink-wrap packaging and opening the box. He handed Sara the plastic wrapped test and she stood up.

"Back in a few."

Grissom remained at the table, reading through the sheet of instructions simply for something to do. He tried to imagine how Sara must have felt going through this for real on her own. Had he been in her position, he didn't know if he could have kept quiet under the circumstances, no matter what the doctors had said.

Sara's voice called from the bathroom.

"How long do we have to wait?"

Grissom double-checked the instructions.

"One minute."

He got up from the table and went to join Sara. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, and checked her watch as he came in. She nodded at the shelf over the sink.

"Time's up. What's it say?"

Grissom walked over and picked up the stick. He looked at the result window, then turned to show it to Sara. His head tipped to one side and an eyebrow raised. He looked just as she hoped he would. There was approval in there combined with amusement and a touch of pride.

"Looks like we're going to have a baby."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The following night at work was slow and slowed further as the clock dragged its way around to the end of the night shift. Grissom was working in his office and had been there for a couple of hours. Privately Catherine hoped it was his paperwork, because she didn't want to see any of that anytime soon, unless it was her own.

Warrick and Nick were in the breakroom, tidying and restocking for the day shift. Warrick was reloading the coffee filter, having finally given up on the bitter brew from the previous evening.

Sara returned from her latest trip to the ladies rest room and retrieved her magazine as she seated herself at the briefing table. She was quite aware that the conversation between Warrick and Nicky had ceased the moment that they realised that she had come back. She looked up at them from the table.

"Hey, guys, what's the book running at for the sex of the baby?"

Warrick smiled but Nick looked cornered. Neither man wanted to risk Sara's wrath by even admitting that there was a 'book'.

Nick stalled for time.

"Book?"

Sara looked at him. Warrick shook his head and gave Nick a look that said 'give it up'.

"Oh, _book. _Yeahwell, umm, the odds seem to favour a boy at the moment. Sixty/forty split."

Sara looked heavenward, then returned to her magazine. Boys will be boys. She supposed that she should be grateful that they weren't running a bet on the identity of the baby's father.

At least she hoped that they weren't. She looked up again just as Greg entered the breakroom and walked over to the coffee. She absently noted that he looked a little angry. He looked flushed, two flags of colour high on his cheeks. Sara looked back to Nick.

"You haven't got any other bet running, have you?"

Nick shook his head.

"Absolutely not. Not even about the baby's weight."

Greg turned to face Nick and Sara, a mug of coffee in his hand. He still looked annoyed.

"It's not this shift you need to watch. Day shift are offering odds on the identity of the baby's father."

"What!"

Sara, Warrick and Nick's exclamation didn't surprise Greg. He shrugged.

"It gets worse. One of the options is 'unknown'."

Warrick and Nick were furious, but Sara was more hurt than angry. She knew that there would be speculation about the baby's father, but she didn't think that anyone would stoop to bet on it being 'unknown'. What Nick and Warrick were saying sank in at last.

"War, Nick, guys, please! Violence doesn't solve anything and we don't have evidence. We…I…knew that this would happen, so, my advice is forget it. I know who the father is, and so does he. That's all that matters."

"Sara, you can't let this go, you - "

"Nick, thanks but no. I'm not sinking to their level. Let it go."

Sara got to her feet and turned toward the door after she had checked her watch.

"Greggo, thanks for telling me, but keep it in this room. No one else needs to know, okay?"

"Sure, Sara. And I'm sorry."

Sara nodded once, and left the room. The shift was officially over, but she knew that Grissom would still be in his office.

Grissom looked up as Sara entered his office. He looked startled and hurriedly shifted some files on his desk before she could cross the room. Sara was still brooding on Greg's comment to take in what he had done.

"Sara."

Grissom managed a smile before he noticed her pensive face.

"Has something upset you?"

Sara took a seat, absently rubbing her belly with a soothing hand.

"I've been thinking. Maybe it's not such a good idea that I move in with you just yet."

Grissom couldn't have looked more stunned if she had hit him.

"What?"

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Trademark product, mine only to borrow for high jinx. I wish.

Title: Last Chance, chapter 20

Summary: Truth will out.

Author's note: Sorry for the terrible delay, will try to do better next time. I had hoped to wind up the tale here, but it wouldn't let me. If Grissom's mother has been named in canon, I apologise for not using it, but I don't know what it is. My choice of Mary was in honour of a delightful five-foot tall bundle of energy that I shall one day have the pleasure to call my mother in law.

Rating: R

**Last Chance Chapter 20**

Sara looked around Grissom's office at the eclectic display of samples and specimens, anything to avoid catching his eye and seeing his pain. She was carrying enough of her own.

Unlike her, Grissom's gaze was entirely focused on one thing. Sara's face. It was a measure of his new faith that he didn't just assume that Sara had decided that – despite all her protests – that she really didn't love him after all. He forced himself to take a breath, then another. His face felt as if someone was pouring ice water under his skin. He was quite certain that he would find his voice in a minute, but what to say with it? Sara looked as if she was preparing to bolt and he couldn't let her leave without giving him some explanation for her change of mind. He forced himself to think calmly and not panic. Christ, every time he thought that he had he had some measure of sanity and stability in his life, something came and upset the balance. So many aspects to cope with at the same time and the good Lord saw fit to give women the ability to multitask.

To Sara's perception, the silence after Grissom's exclamation of 'What?' seemed to have gone on for an age. She ought to be used to him taking his time to gather his thoughts, but she wanted this terrible moment to be over. She was already regretting what she had said, a knee jerk reaction to the shock of Greg's announcement about the day shift's betting pool. Setting aside that fact that she loved Gil and wanted to be with him in every way, it was impractical to change her mind at this late date as she had already packed and given notice on her apartment. She should have thought this through better before she coming in here. What reason could she give for not completing the move that would not involve Grissom finding out about the 'father unknown' bet? Sara was worried that he would be so angry that he would go and confront the day-shift supervisor about the sick bet, and fall straight into Ecklie's hands, thereby confirming his 'unsuitability' as the night shift Supervisor.

For the first time Sara really understood what Grissom had been up against when he had said that they could not have a relationship. She had only thought about them being together, whilst he had obviously thought about the bigger picture. He had known that their relationship would invite curiosity, speculation and a certain amount of spite. No profession was free from office politics, as Ecklie could attest.

Grissom shifted uncomfortably in his seat and finally managed to form some semblance of an additional response.

"Why? What's happened?"

Reluctantly Sara turned to Grissom and her gaze faltered under the strength of his.

"Nothing…nothing. I just think…that we…that is, I…have been hasty. Rushed you, rushed us…y'know…"

Sara's voice faded away, unable to come up with a strong argument for what she knew was not the truth anyway.

Grissom was beginning to feel less shocked and more positive. He was certain some specific incident had spooked Sara into this blatant lie. He needed time to find out what it was and see what he could do to fix it. Instead of reminding her that they were married, had a baby due in a little over three months and that she had nowhere to live by the end of the month, he tried to give her space he thought she needed.

"I'm sorry that you think that, and for what it's worth I don't see it that way. But I can see that you are having doubts. Do you want more time to think about it?"

He thought that he had handled it well. He had been mature and responsible, and hadn't flown off the handle. Grissom was quite unaware that it appeared to Sara that he thought that she was just having a bout of cold feet and that he wasn't taking it too seriously.

Sara frowned in confusion. Having just achieved the reprieve she needed but didn't really want – to protect Grissom's position – she wanted him to tell her that it didn't matter what anyone else thought, he was taking her home – for good. His thoughtfulness irritated her for no logical reason. She tried to remain calm. Maybe this was hormonal; she wasn't normally this woolly-minded.

"Yes. No. Yes, probably."

Grissom looked as confused as she felt. His eyes followed her as she got to her feet and Sara had the distinct feeling that he was wondering which way to jump. Before he could say anything, she added with a sigh,

"Ask me later."

Grissom abandoned the sentence that he was trying to form. Maybe if he kept quiet Sara would have changed her mind again by the time they were due to leave. In the mean time he had to try to find out what had happened. He had a horrible suspicion that he knew at least part of it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_Miss_ Sidle!"

Sara halted in the corridor and turned back to face the owner of the voice. She kept her expression impassive, quite certain that she was meant to hear the emphasis on the 'Miss'.

Robert Cavallo did not hurry to meet her. He was used to having most of the staff hurry to meet him. He glanced briefly but pointedly at Sara's absence of a waist before looking at her face.

"I have been informed that you are taking maternity leave and hoping to return to work later in the year."

Sara eyed the Assistant Director with carefully concealed disdain. She had no liking for this man or many of the things he stood for, but he was still the AD.

"That's correct."

She did not like the way the AD had implied that there was a chance that her job wouldn't be here when she tried to come back after the baby was born.

"Mmm. Well, that's good."

He managed to make it sound not good at all. Sara didn't reply, sensing that he wasn't finished.

"We need good CSI's to help maintain the standards in the department."

Sara could almost admire the way Cavallo had just implied that she wasn't one of the 'good' CSI's. Fortunately her belief in her own abilities at work was strong enough to prevent her from getting annoyed.

"True. We also need to make sure that those same high standards are carried throughout every level of the department."

Cavallo's slightly oily smile slipped fractionally as Sara's hit scored.

"Naturally. It's reassuring to see that guidance that I give to the Supervisors is passed on in some part at least."

Sara gave him her patented fake smile, oozing pseudo sincerity. Guidance her ass. Grissom had pulled this man's butt out of the fire more times than she could count.

"Absolutely."

Cavallo eyed her closely. His smile was unpleasant.

"Of course, if I should ever discover that the high standards are being compromised, either in the day to day running of the shifts or their moral compass, I would be forced to take steps."

_Yeah_, thought Sara, _big ones, as you run away and let someone else deal with it_.

With one last glare, Cavallo strode off, not remotely interested in Sara's response.

Despite her bravado, Sara was left with the uneasy feeling that she had just been warned about lowering the moral tone of the department with her unmarried and pregnant status. Jeez, this was the twenty first century, how archaic could they get?

She sighed heavily. Two strikes against Grissom then; he was her Supervisor and the baby's father. Kind of ironic that she regarded Grissom as one of the most moral and honest men that she had ever met.

One side of her face lifted in wry amusement. The encounter had solved her dilemma about moving in with Grissom. She was damned if she'd let Cavallo tell her how to run her life.

Besides, she thought with increasing humour, she _was_ married.

Ten minutes later Sara discovered that Grissom was not to be found in the building, and when she eventually gave up looking for him and left to go home, his Denali wasn't in the car lot either.

She went home to her own place to eat and to get some sleep. There was a message on her answer phone from Grissom, telling her that 'something had come up' and that he would out until about noon. She wondered why he had rushed off from the lab, and why he had not called her on her cell. She fell asleep still wondering.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grissom held his cell to his ear and listened to the ring tone. It went on so long that the answer phone kicked in and he tutted in frustration when he heard Sara's voice telling him to leave his name and number.

He muttered under his breath as he waited for the tone.

"Come on, come on, where are you?"

_Beep._

"Sara, if you're there pick up. Sara…? Call me on my cell as soon as you can."

Grissom closed his cell and replaced it in his pocket. There had been no reply on her cell either. It was way past the 'noon' he said that he would contact her by, and soon she would be at work. He hoped that Sara was not out somewhere without her cellphone. He turned around and walked back into the main entrance of the hospital. A prominent sign reminded him that all personal phones must be turned off within the hospital buildings. He swore under his breath, but complied.

He walked back up to the general medical floor and passed the Nurse's Station on his way to one of the small two-bed wards. Only one of the beds was occupied and the patient turned to the door as soon as it opened. The still attractive older woman smiled over her own anxiety and reached out a hand.

"Are you okay?"

Grissom smiled as he crossed to the bed, took hold of the proffered hand. He made sure that they were face to face.

"That should be my line."

The woman pulled a face as she looked at her plastered ankle, then back at him.

"I'm fine dear, you didn't have to come all the way out here. It's a simple clean break, no complications. No need to fuss."

The woman's voice had an odd cadence to it, the pronunciation just a little off.

Grissom sighed with fond exasperation.

"It's no 'fuss' to come out. I only have one mother to visit."

Mrs. Grissom smiled tiredly.

"But it's still a long drive and you must be exhausted. Have you eaten?"

Grissom raised one eyebrow in amusement as he quoted back at her.

" ' No need to fuss.' "

His mother smiled ruefully and her light blue eyes danced, making her look younger.

"Touché, but answer the question. Indulge a poor frail invalid."

Grissom smiled with real humour.

"Frail? You're bombproof. And yes, I had something on the way up here."

Grissom's mother patted the bed beside her knees, indicating that he should be seated there, but he pulled out a chair instead, mindful of the nurse's preferences. His mother continued as soon as he was facing her.

"While we wait for the doctor, you can bring me up to date with everything. How are things in Vegas?"

Grissom pondered briefly on how long it would take his mother to work her way around to asking about his love life. It wouldn't take her long, it never did. Ever the eternal optimist, she had never given up hope of grandchildren, especially whenever she read about some of the older male filmstars marrying much younger women and having second families. Even so, he wondered what her reaction would be to his news.

"Vegas is Vegas. Nothing much changes. But I do have something to tell you though…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So what do you think?"

Sara looked up and paused in her fingerprint brushing as Catherine's question sank in. She frowned as she looked at what Catherine was doing, and around at the crime scene.

"Inside job. Glass debris is on the outside of the door; shows it was punched from inside to out. Superficial damage to the - "

Catherine looked both exasperated and amused at the younger woman.

"No, not _this_, I'm talking about the idea of a baby shower at my place. Weren't you listening?"

Sara answered absently, her focus distracted from the printing by what looked like a piece of thread caught in the damaged wood of the door. After she had saved the thread in a bindle, she again looked up at Catherine from her crouched position, wobbling slightly as her altered centre of gravity put her off balance. The baby was moving around a lot and seemed to kick out whenever she leaned forward.

"I guess not. Sorry. Um, isn't a baby shower supposed to be a surprise?"

Catherine gave Sara a 'duh' look, and shrugged.

"Yeah, but I figured you'd flip without prior warning, and I was right, wasn't I?"

One side of Sara's mouth lifted in wry acknowledgement.

"Yeah, true."

Catherine waited a beat, her expression one of 'and I'm still waiting here'. Eventually her patience ran out.

"And?"

Sara looked surprised, then had an 'oh, yeah' moment.

"It'd be cool, thanks."

"Okay, I'll get it organised."

Catherine went back to photographing the room, leaving Sara to finish what she was doing.

Sara put her brush and powder down and surveyed her handiwork. There were some smudged partials, but nothing useful in the area she had just dusted. She sighed and went to get up. She grunted in pain.

"Um, Catherine, you got a minute?"

Catherine's head appeared around the door to the other room, eyebrows raised.

"Problem?"

Sara looked exasperated.

"Could you give me a hand?"

Catherine, surprised, looked around at Sara's handiwork. It was her usual thorough job.

"Aren't you done here?"

Sara's expression was sheepish, her cheeks tinged with pink.

"Ahuh. Actually, what I meant was could you give me a hand to get up. My leg appears to have gone to sleep."

Catherine managed to confine her amusement to a mild twitch of the lips as she gave Sara a hand to get to her feet. The shift had only been going a short while, no sense in committing suicide by laughing outright.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Gil Grissom, I should box your ears!"

With his mother's indignant tones ringing in his ears Grissom didn't need the threat of extra punishment. He reminded himself that was a grown up and in a few years he would be fifty, but it didn't seem to diminish the feeling that he was a small child being told off. His riposte was mild, all things considered.

"I'd rather you didn't. I admit that I should have told you sooner, but it's been…difficult."

Mary Grissom's shrewd gaze watched the emotions pass over her son's face. Being deaf for a substantial part of her life meant that she relied more on her other senses, and others might miss the subtle clues that were obvious to her. It had been a difficult journey for Gil, of that she had no doubt. She had the strongest feeling that he was leaving out very significant portions of the story so far, but he had never been a boy to speak until he was ready. He would tell her if and when the time was right.

"I'm sure it has. Marriage and fatherhood, it's a huge responsibility that some people are never ready for."

Grissom leaned back in his seat, his right elbow on the arm of the seat, the fingers of his right hand resting on his cheek. He wondered if his mother was thinking about his father, who had left when Grissom was only five. Or rather they had divorced when he was five; his father had been absent emotionally and to some extent physically, long before the divorce.

"Very little prepares you for it, that's for certain. However, I asked her to marry me before we knew about the baby."

Mary was concerned for her son, but chose to put a brave face on the situation. Many a marriage that had got off to a shaky start went on to thrive. She had heard from time to time over the years about Sara Sidle, and had often wondered if there had been more going on than Gil had realised. But whichever way you look at it, a grandchild was a grandchild and deep in her heart Mary Grissom was not sorry about this development.

"Well, you won't have much time to adjust to being a couple before you are parents, but these things happen. You'll have a few months to yourselves."

Grissom realised that his mother had assumed that the baby was unplanned. He had not told her the whole story, and probably never would, but he didn't want her to think that they had merely been careless.

"The baby wasn't a mistake. We…didn't want to wait; I'm not getting any younger."

Mary brightened.

"Neither am I, so when can I meet Sara?"

Grissom frowned slightly, briefly. When indeed?

"Very soon."

He knew that he was hedging, but he would have to go back and speak to Sara. It was his own fault; Sara had been in the difficult position of not being able to tell his mother about the wedding while he was in hospital, because Grissom had not remembered that he was married. He suddenly became aware that his mother had asked him a question.

"Excuse me?"

"I asked you what the wedding was like, and if you had any pictures."

Grissom described the ceremony, quite unaware of his revealing expression and at his mother's prompting, remembered more of the details that all women seem to thrive on; the dress, the matching wedding bands, and the location. Mary Grissom was considerably reassured by the almost, well, _dreamy_ look on the face of her only child, until she realised that he had said _bands_ and noticed that he wasn't wearing one.

"There were some pictures taken, but I don't have them on me. I think Sara has them at her place..."

He could have bitten his tongue out for his moment of uncharacteristic carelessness. His mother was on it as quick as a flash.

"_Her_ place? Doesn't she live with you?"

Crap.

"She's um…moving in…shortly. Had to sort out her apartment and a few things."

"I see."

Grissom was all too aware that his mother probably saw a lot more than he wanted her to. Fortunately for him, he was saved from further questioning by the arrival of a nurse to do the patient's observations.

Thank heaven.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara made her way to the break room, trying too hard not to look as if she were searching for Grissom. She and Catherine had signed their collected evidence in a half-hour ago, and Warrick had spirited Catherine off with some lame excuse that was as transparent as the glass walls around the department. Sara smiled inwardly, reminding herself that she knew exactly what it was like to want to be with someone so much that any dumb excuse would do.

She casually collected a bottle of water from the fridge and opened its top, turning as she did to the other occupants of the room. She leaned back on the counter and took a swig of the chilled water. Both Nick and Greg were reading; a departmental update and 'Profile of a criminal mind' respectively. Sara was momentarily distracted by Greg's book.

"Hey, Greg, you thinking of another career jump? Lab Rat to criminalist to psychological profiler?"

Greg glanced up over the top of the book.

"I don't think that it hurts to have an understanding of the criminal mind when viewing a crime scene."

"Do you think that is such a thing as a criminal mind? Not just some everyday Joe who has a momentary loss of control or whatever and commits a crime of violence?"

Greg lowered the book, looking at Sara.

"The nineteenth century Italian physician Cesare Lombroso believed criminal types could be identified by their physical characteristics, and that criminal behaviour was hereditary."

"Yeah, that was then, and his theories were disproved."

"But the idea that you could construct a profile of behaviour stuck, and no-one thinks twice now about psychological profiling. Or handwriting analysis, or even geographic profiling."

Greg stopped when he realised that Sara was smirking at him.

"Okay, okay, preaching to the converted. It's interesting, that's all."

Sara patted Greg's shoulder as she walked around his table.

"Yes, it is. And it's why we're here. Because we all want answers to puzzles."

Nick looked up from his bulletin with a knowing grin.

"He's taken a personal day. Had a phone call earlier to say he wouldn't be in."

Sara tried for polite surprise. Was she that obvious?

"Pardon me?"

Nick's grin widened, as did Greg's on seeing Sara's barely disguised chagrin.

"Grissom. Not in tonight."

"I wasn't looking for him."

Nick shrugged nonchalantly, clearly not believing a word of it.

"No? Okay, my mistake."

Sara moved towards the break room's open door. She stopped and looked back, unable to leave well enough alone.

"I was _not_ looking for Grissom."

Bobby was passing by out in the corridor. He stopped and stuck his head in the doorway, having heard the tail end of Sara's statement.

"You lookin' for Grissom? He's not in tonight."

Sara looked heavenward in supplication as she walked past Bobby and up the main corridor. She muttered under her breath as she dialled her husband's cell.

"Does _everybody_ know except me?"

She listened only long enough to hear the start of the service providers' message that the number she was calling was unavailable. Grissom's cell was off. It was _never _off.

What the frell was going on?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara didn't even get part of her answer until she returned to her apartment at the end of a busy shift. She was tired and hungry until she saw the message waiting light on her answering machine. She hurried over and listened to the messages, then rang Grissom's cell again. Finally he picked up, and he sounded terse.

"Grissom."

All sorts of thoughts went through Sara's mind. Where was he? How was he? What the hell was going on? Why was his cell off earlier? Why the _fuck_ had he scared her like this? Hell, he could have even text her beeper for Chrissake! She ought to give him a piece of her mind.

"It's me."

_Yep, way to go, that showed him. At least he'll be apologetic and explanatory now._

"Where have you been?"

_Or not._

"I could ask you the same question. Your cell was off. I have been trying to reach you for hours."

Grissom could tell from her coolly controlled tone that she was angry with him.

"I was in a hospital and had to switch it off, no choice." He added a belated "Sorry."

Sara's stomach took a dip and she clutched the telephone more tightly.

"Why were you in hospital? What's wrong?"

Grissom inwardly cursed, realising too late that he had worried her.

"Nothing, I'm fine. It's my mother. She slipped and broke her ankle."

"Is she okay?"

"She's better than I expected, I feel more sorry for the hospital staff…look, I didn't want to tell you this over the telephone, but I'm going to ask her to come and stay at the townhouse. It'll save driving over to Santa Monica every few days, and I can keep an eye on her."

It never crossed Sara's mind for a second to say 'no' or protest that there was no room.

"Sure, she can use the baby's room. The paint smell has mostly gone."

Grissom was gratified but not surprised that Sara made no excuses not to have his mother stay. He could have made insisted if necessary, but he wanted Sara to know that it was her home too.

"Thank you."

Sara smiled to herself at his subtle relief. She could tell that he had anticipated the possibility of her not agreeing.

"So long as she's better within sixteen weeks. Or it's liable to get a little crowded and noisy."

She heard the smile in Grissom's voice as he replied.

"I'm sure she will."

They talked for a few more minutes, both reluctant to be the one to hang up, until finally Grissom said that he had to go.

Sara wished that she were with him.

"I love you honey, give your Mom my regards and tell her that I'm looking forward to meeting her."

Without hesitation Grissom replied.

"I will, and I love you too."

Sara stared at the telephone as Grissom hung up. He'd said 'I love you' without any pause.

More and more he reminded her of the Gill she came to know up at the cabin. Maybe she should just try not to worry about his missing memories. It didn't seem to be bothering him so much lately; recently she had noticed that she didn't find him brooding in silence somewhere quiet any more. Perhaps he was coming to terms with it all. Two hundred and fifty-odd miles away and it was the closest she had felt to him all day. She was smiling as she stirred herself to get breakfast. Later, after some much-needed sleep, she would see about getting her bed moved to Grissom's place. She wouldn't need it once she had moved in; it had to be an omen.

If she believed in that sort of thing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"No."

The tone of voice was polite but firm.

"But - "

Grissom didn't get chance to add any more to his sentence before his mother cut him off.

"No Gil, thank you. I'm going to be fine on crutches, I'll get a walking cast before you know it, and I'll be back on both feet. The last thing you and Sara need is to start off the rest of your lives together with 'Mom' under your roof. I wouldn't like it if I were in that situation. I'll come for a few days to meet Sara, but then I'll be on my way. The girls would never forgive me."

Grissom looked at his mother's implacable face and mentally scrabbled to catch up from the surprise of her refusal to stay with him. Them.

"Girls?"

Mary Grissom looked fondly at her son. Daughters knew that you could cope on your own, sons never figured it out.

"My bridge club. Thursdays every week, without fail. Then there's the swim club on Friday, Tai Chi on Wednesdays, oh, and - "

It was Grissom's turn to interrupt the steady flow of words.

"You can't swim with a cast."

"I know dear, after all, you did get your smart genes from me. The point I'm trying to make is that I have a life of my own. I don't sit home and knit for Goodwill, I'm out living my life to the full. I have friends if I need anything, including help."

Grissom smile was rueful. He didn't actually think that his mother sat home all day - she still had her art connections through the gallery - but he had not thought about what she did on a day to day basis. Obviously a lot more than he thought.

"If you're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now you go see to your family, and I'll see you in a few days when they let me out of here."

Mary held out her hand to Grissom just as she had when he first came to see her. He took hold of it as before and gave it a squeeze, but this time he also leaned down and kissed his mother's cheek. He didn't know why he did it, he didn't usually; he never used to be that physically affectionate.

Mary was shocked but recovered quickly enough to buss her cheek to his. She couldn't prevent herself from asking in pleased surprise,

"What was that for?"

Grissom wasn't sure himself. He wondered briefly if it was because he was more used to having Sara constantly invading his personal space; maybe as a result he had become more tactile himself.

"It just seemed…right."

Mary just smiled and Grissom smiled in return as he went to leave.

"Gil?"

He turned back in the doorway, his eyebrows raised in enquiry.

"Mmm?"

"I think I'm going to like Sara."

Grissom knew exactly what she meant; it didn't need further explanation.

"I'm sure of it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"C'mon Gil, let me do _something_."

Sara's whine fell on deaf ears.

"No, I said you're not to carry anything, and I meant it."

"But it's a small box, not very heavy, I'm not helpless."

Grissom straightened up from the most recent box he had carried in from Sara's car. He was breathing heavily and sweat shone on his face.

"Sara."

Sara pulled a face. It was the Supervisor Grissom voice.

"Grissom."

Grissom was not having any of it. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to Sara or the baby though his own negligence.

"Quit now, while you're ahead. Go make a drink or something."

Sara's chin came up and a glint appeared in her eyes.

"That sounded very patronising, Mr Grissom."

Grissom wiped his sweating forehead with the sleeve of the old shirt he usually wore for decorating. He was grateful that he was only moving Sara's breakable stuff and that the moving company were dealing with the rest that wasn't being stored or sold. He could really do with a cold drink and a disagreement with Sara right now was not on his agenda.

"Okay, Mrs Grissom, look at it from my side. You, six months pregnant with the only baby you are likely to have yourself. Which, by the way, is my child too. It's a hot day, 100 in the shade, and the inside of my mouth feels like the bottom of a birdcage. No, I don't want you carrying anything to risk either of you, and yes, I would love a drink if you are getting yourself one. I'm sorry I sounded patronising, that wasn't my intention."

Sara, mollified, went quickly over to the sink and poured Grissom a tall glass of water. She brought it back and handed it to him, then watched him drink it down almost in one go. He handed her the empty glass.

"Thank you. Now, I'm going to go and get the last couple of boxes from your car."

Sara made no protest this time. Grissom's argument was quite logical, but she felt an unaccustomed helplessness at not being able to assist moving in to his place. She felt bad about it, but she supposed he had a point. She watched him walk away and turn in to the hallway. Jeez, but there was something about the way he walked that made her want to run after him and grab his butt.

She was still standing there, practically salivating, when Grissom returned with the penultimate box. He gave her a curious look.

"You okay?"

Sara looked at him, hard at work and perspiring. She could smell the masculinity from here.

She indicated behind Grissom.

"Mmm. I'll go check that the air con is working in your room…"

"_Our_ room."

"_Our_ room, and if you want to find me when you're done…I'll be the naked horny one on the bed."

Grissom stopped suddenly and looked at Sara's face. She looked back at him innocently.

"Ooh, sorry, did I say that last bit out loud?"

Grissom's lips twitched.

"Witch."

He was still smiling five minutes later when he came back in with the last box, which he placed next to the others. He was grateful to finally be able to stay inside in the cooler air. He looked at his watch and decided that he had time for a quick shower before he went to find his wife.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Catherine looked through the baby catalogue propped against her thighs, trying to decide what gift to get for Sara. Unlike a lot of the women on the night shift, she had a child and knew that what seemed the ideal gift was not always the most useful. She wanted something both useful and something that Sara would like. She flicked another page across.

"Whoa, should I be panicking?"

Catherine looked up at Warrick and smiled with appreciation, both at the joke and what she could see. He had a towel slung low over his hips and an amused smile. He didn't need anything else; she felt her heart skip and race.

"God, I hope not. I'm looking for something for Sara's baby shower. Things sure have changed in fourteen years."

Warrick moved to sit on the edge of the bed, facing Catherine. She looked tousled from sleep, and fresh faced without her make up. She smelled warm and bedable. He glanced at the bedside clock. There was nowhere that they to be for a couple of hours and Lindsey wouldn't be home until after four thirty.

Catherine saw the glance and followed his gaze. Their eyes met again. Warrick's hand snaked out and removed the catalogue, dropping it to the floor with a thud. He slowly leaned down towards Catherine, pulling the quilt aside as he did so.

"You can do that later, after breakfast maybe."

Catherine smirked and shimmied across the bed, making room for Warrick.

"But how much later? I'm starved!"

Warrick prevented any further escape by pressing his body down to Catherine's. Her shimmy had made her nightwear ride up; the only thing between them was the towel.

"Much later honey, because I have an appetite too."

Catherine pretended to be resigned to the loss of breakfast. She sighed theatrically.

"Well, if you insist. But that towel sure feels damp."

Warrick shifted slightly, one hand reaching to his hip to twitch the towel from between them. He lowered himself back down and settled comfortably.

"Better?"

Catherine reached up to rest her hands on his broad shoulders.

"Oh yeah!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grissom closed his eyes and moved into the stream of hot water, getting his hair and body wet prior to washing. He quickly wiped his face and beard with his hands to clean off the perspiration generated by moving Sara's boxes. He very quickly washed his hair and used the water to rinse all the shampoo out as he scrubbed his fingers through the salt and pepper curls. He moved his head out of the stream and wiped his eyes. Before he had finished he felt a cold draft of air as the shower door was opened, and he felt a hand on his back. He smirked.

"Come to help?"

"You bet."

Sara moved closer to Grissom so that she could close the door behind her. It was a double shower, but with the three of them it was still cramped. Water splashed and bounced off them as Grissom handed Sara the shower gel bottle. He suddenly thought of the time she put that cold gel on him and he braced himself for it again, but when Sara smoothed the first lot on his back it was warm. He relaxed, reaching behind him to touch her, but she moved and admonished him.

"Ah ah, no touching. This is for you, not me…although I will be enjoying it too."

Grissom voiced his protest.

"Hey, that's half my fun!"

But Sara made him put his hands up on the tiled wall in front of him. She washed his back, but didn't rinse off the lather. She moved a small pace forward and pressed her body against his, the soapy residue making her breasts and belly slide sensuously against his back.

"Gahh that's good!"

Sara smiled but didn't say anything. She put more gel on her hands and rubbed them together, creating more lather. Still standing behind him and starting at his shoulders, she washed Grissom's chest and stomach, paying close attention to his hard nipples each time she cupped his chest. Every time she teasingly dragged her hands towards his waist, Grissom's breath caught in his chest. He leaned forward to prevent the water from removing the soapy lather and felt Sara move with him.

"You like that, then?"

Sara's rhetorical question required no answer, but Grissom grunted in approval anyway.

XXXXXXXXXXXX censored missing bit smirk XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"This is just for you, honey, so let it go."

Grissom had no trouble hearing the seductive whisper over the hiss of the shower. Although even then he might have been okay for a few more moments, but Sara's lips and tongue touched his ear and he felt the unmistakable nip of her teeth on his earlobe. He shuddered in delight, unable to stop himself. He was beyond clear speech, but his gasping moans conveyed all that they need to.

Sara kept her eyes open, to savour both the sight and feel of Gil in her hands, his powerful masculinity stirring her own arousal even higher. Every one of her nerves bridled with delight, making her skin tingle with excitement. Spasms of pleasurable anticipation pulsed through her body and she squirmed against Grissom even more firmly.

Grissom gasped and stiffened in Sara's embrace, his fists clenching.

"God, stop _now_ or it'll be too late!"

Sara purred in his ear.

"Then I guess it's too late lover."

Grissom was powerless to prevent the waves of ecstasy that flowed through him from every part of his body. It curled and focused at the base of his spine like liquid lightening. With a throbbing snap he climaxed, crying out his pleasure as Sara held him.

For a long moment there was only the sound of laboured breathing and the noise of the shower. Grissom hung his head, allowing the cooling water to fall down his torso, rinsing off the both of them. He turned the water off. He was both drained and enervated.

"That was…incredible."

Grissom turned around carefully, until he faced a smirking and unrepentant Sara.

"But you should have stopped when - "

His voice was cut off abruptly by the press of Sara's lips on his own. Her tongue slid into his mouth with the ease of long practice and he automatically responded. When she figured he was distracted enough Sara pulled back, desire evident on her face.

"No 'but's' just 'butts', so get yours in the bedroom, where you can show me just how grateful you are with your clever hands, fingers and mouth."

Grissom smiled involuntarily, still feeling the tingling shocks throughout his body.

"That's not the same."

"You turn me on, you make me come and in a variety of ways. Penetration isn't everything, but if you're that _concerned_ I'll let you borrow my rabbit."

Grissom was torn; part of him was amused and humbled that Sara did not in any way perceive his climax as a premature end to their tryst this evening. But part of him felt that he ought to be outraged at the suggestion that he would _need_ the rabbit.

Amusement won the day.

"Thank you, I am gratified that it will be close at hand should we need it. However, I think we should dry off, then continue where we left off in the comfort of the bedroom."

Sara leaned in and gave Grissom a quick kiss, the seal of a promise.

"Sounds like a plan to me."

They dried each other, a simple and uncomplicated task made enjoyable by the fact that they were each giving the other a treat. It wouldn't perhaps have appeared sexy to an outsider, but the subtext was obvious; they loved touching and being touched by the one they loved.

When Sara reached for her moisturising body crème, Grissom deftly snatched it out from under her fingers. She looked at him in puzzlement as he held out his free hand. He didn't say anything, but continued to hold out his hand. After a moment, she gave him her hand.

She got to her feet with his assistance and he gently tugged her behind him out into the bedroom. He guided her to the bed and made sure that she was comfortable, laying her down in the middle of the big bed.

Sara watched as Grissom – just as naked as she – seated himself beside her on the bed. He unscrewed the jar of crème and took some of the lilac-coloured contents on to his fingers, warming it in his palms. He leaned over Sara and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. He began to gently rub the crème in. With his next handful he worked his way down Sara's left arm, then her right, massaging in the crème with warm firm hands. Sara started out smiling at Grissom with approval, but soon she was lost in his sensual assault. He drove her almost mad with his teasing avoidance of key areas of her body; her breasts in particular craved his touch, to no avail. When he abandoned her upper torso after he had finished the 'bump' and started on her feet, Sara wondered whether or not this was payback for the shower, but by the time he got to her thighs she didn't care. She could have wept when he stopped just short of paradise, but her consolation was that Grissom lay back down beside her, leaning in for a kiss that would have knocked her shoes off, had she been wearing any.

Eventually they came up for air, and Sara's dazed expression warmed Grissom heart. She found her voice after a struggle.

"Just tell me one thing Gill; why'd you stop just short -?"

"Because your crème isn't edible, and I wouldn't be able to do this."

So saying Grissom dipped his head and closed his lips over the tip of Sara's breast. The heat of his mouth shocked Sara to her core and she cried out with pleasure as he teased her with his tongue.

"Or this."

Grissom swapped to the other breast and his own arousal stirred anew as he fanned the flames higher in Sara, making her thrash her head from side to side, and her hands clutch at the bedding. One of her flailing hands found his thigh and rapidly sought out the evidence of his desire. She opened her eyes in delight and smirked as she stroked him.

"Gee, what's up, Doc?"

Grissom got the reference immediately despite the distraction of her hold on him. He leaned down next to Sara's ear and whispered.

"I guess we're not hunting wabbit's today."

Sara laughed with appreciation, and as Grissom's face descended towards hers, she replied with a smile,

"No, I guess not."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Just how much closet space does one woman need?

Grissom drove in to work with this thorny question on his mind. Dividing personal space was a whole new game for him and he hadn't been handed the rulebook. It both charmed and alarmed him that Sara's belongings seemed to be all over the place. He loved that her toothbrush was next to his and her toiletries made the bathroom smell just like her. They had no problems with the toilet seat because he thought it looked tidier when down too. But when he opened his closet this evening and discovered his pants were shoved to one end and all his T's were missing, he knew that he had some way to go before he would be comfortable in his own home again. Fortunately for his sanity Sara had emerged from the bathroom in time to tell him that his T-shirts were now all folded and in the second drawer of the dresser. He had opened his mouth to ask where the original contents of the second drawer were, when he found his own answer after opening the top drawer. His underwear and Sara's were sharing. It was curiously intimate to see his boxers and Sara's collection of bras and panties side by side. He shut the drawer quickly feeling as if he were peeping where he should not. Then he felt silly. Grissom opened the drawer again and smirked as he looked at the colourful collection of lace and silks. He reached in to the drawer.

"What are you doing?"

Grissom turned and looked at Sara. The drawer slid shut.

"Just getting some underwear."

Sara had just returned from the main room and was ready for work. To his relief she just crossed the room and gave him a farewell kiss.

"Okay, see you later at work."

Grissom thought how lovely she looked. She suited being pregnant, she really did glow.

"Play nice with the other kids."

Sara gestured without looking back and Grissom grinned.

"Hey, next time you wave at me, use _all_ your fingers."

Grissom smiled in reminiscence as he pulled into the parking lot at work. He could see Sara's car a couple of rows over and made a conscious effort not to park next to her. He found it tiring to have to remember to keep up the appearance of not being part of a couple with her. So often during a shift he had to remind himself not to enter Sara's personal space or make an overly familiar gesture or comment. He wanted to say 'Ecklie and Cavallo be damned' and have done with it, but this was the way Sara wanted it played, and had agreed to it, for now.

But it didn't mean that he liked it.

It was a curiously quiet night at work and it left most of the criminalists wondering when the 'other' boot was going to fall. It did give everyone time to finish up paperwork, top up supplies, tidy round the departments, and catch up on their journal reading.

It was during the early hours of the morning that Grissom found himself looking for Warrick, just to double check part of a report he had completed. It wasn't important enough to call his beeper and because things were so quiet Grissom decided to go and look for him. To be truthful Warrick's report was an excuse to leave his office. Grissom's first port of call was the breakroom, but to his utter lack of surprise neither Catherine nor Warrick were present. Sara looked up automatically, her body radar on alert as usual. Grissom started to smile before he had even thought about it, but Sara's face had her usual 'polite colleague' expression firmly in place. He rapidly employed his famous 'stone face'.

"Where's Warrick?"

Nick looked up from his journal, his forehead creasing with concentration.

"Haven't seen him for a while. Have you been to Trace? He was there about an hour ago."

Grissom tapped the report folder against his leg as he frowned in thought. He wasn't in any hurry, it could wait.

"Never mind. If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him."

"Sure."

Nick ostensibly returned to the article he was reading and Grissom left the room. The Texan had managed a slow count to sixty-seven before he saw Sara get up and leave the room. He shook his head. Who did they think they were foolin'?

Contrary to Nick's suspicions, Sara was actually off to the Ladies washroom again. Seemed to her like she was always in there these days. As she washed her hands a few minutes later she glanced in the mirror. She realised that she had just about stretched her black T-shirt and her Lycra easifit pants as far as they would go. After a quick glance at the stalls behind her to establish that she was alone, she turned sideways to look at her profile in the mirror. So that was what twenty-six weeks looked like from the outside. She ran her hand over the bump and felt it shift under her fingers as the baby moved. Awesome. And then some.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Near the end of the shift Grissom gratefully signed off Warrick's report and added it to the pile to be sent further up the chain. Warrick had sorted out the minor misunderstanding, enabling Grissom to finish early for once.

Grissom leaned back in his chair and stretched. His eyes closed as he turned his head left and right to ease the resistance in his neck, then gave it a rub for good measure.

"Stiff?"

Grissom's eyes opened. The provocatively drawled word was loaded with innuendo. His lips tweaked up at one side in appreciation.

"Only my neck, sadly."

Sara drew closer to the desk, but before she could say anything else she heard Greg's voice behind her.

"Hey, Gris – oh, hi Sara."

Sara nodded pleasantly, her work persona instantly back in place. Greg looked back to Grissom and gave him a couple of sheets of paper.

"The DNA for the Bridgeman case came back – not a match. We're back to square one."

Although he had already begun to read, Grissom's head came up from the report at the somewhat defeated tone of Greg's voice.

"No, we are not. If this is the man that we suspect of the car lot rapes, this is the first time we have managed to collect any DNA. Just because he hasn't got a record doesn't mean we can't find him. And when we do, we'll have something to compare him to. That's progress."

Greg nodded, looking happier now than when he came in. He nodded again to Sara as he left the office.

Grissom looked at Sara, who had transformed from work colleague back to sexy wife in the blink of an eye. He looked at her with admiration.

"How can you do that?"

"Compartmentalisation. Work in this bit, the rest in this bit. Simple."

Grissom watched Sara's hands as she demonstrated her idea. It seemed anything but simple to him.

"But how?"

Sara dropped her hands. She sighed gently.

"You were running from your feelings, whereas I was just hiding mine. I was dealing, you weren't."

Grissom looked thoughtful for a long moment, examining the concept at its face value. He realised that she was right; she had known how she felt and became adept at hiding her true feelings – most of the time – whereas he had just buried them deep to avoid learning how to cope with them.

"Ostrich principle."

"We all do it at some time or another. It took an explosion to get my head out of the sand."

Grissom got up and walked around his desk. Sara watched him the whole time, a soft smile on her lips. He leaned back on his desk, resting his hands on the edge to prevent himself from touching Sara. There were too many damned glass walls in this department for his liking at this moment.

"And I nearly made you shove it back in again. I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you, especially for all the times I didn't realise that I'd hurt you."

Sara shrugged.

"You couldn't help the amnesia, it's not like you did it deliberately. Who knows, maybe one day you'll get your memories back and you'll find out we're not married after all. Maybe it's a lie. You ever think of that?"

Grissom felt as guilty as sin for not telling Sara the truth about his recovered memory, but his response was fast and honest.

"No, not even close. You wouldn't lie about something that important."

Sara looked at him with an odd expression.

"I like to think that I wouldn't lie about anything."

Grissom looked at her, one eyebrow canted upwards.

"No? Surely we're both living a lie at the moment?"

Sara shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah, well, that's different."

Grissom stood up and indicated that Sara should precede him to the door of his office.

"I'm just not comfortable with this."

Sara stopped in the corridor, waiting for Grissom to lock his office. He turned towards the exit, pocketing the keys, and Sara followed, speaking softly.

"I'm not happy about it either. But if I tell them now, they're going to take advantage of my maternity leave and let me go. They're not going to want to lose an entomologist of your calibre."

"You know that they can't do that to you. It's against the law."

"Yeah, but by the time we've fought it through the courts and won, no-one will touch me, I'll never get another job in this field, and they know that."

During the course of the conversation Sara and Grissom had left the main building and were half way to Sara's car. They completed the walk in silence, each deep in thought. When Grissom got to Sara's car he held the door while she got in the vehicle. He leaned over slightly.

"We'll figure something out, try not to worry and I'll see you at home."

Sara looked up at him, shading her eyes from the bright morning sun.

"Gil, just don't do anything without letting me know first, okay? You promised me once that there would be no more secrets."

Grissom looked at Sara's upturned face. He hated disappointing her.

"Yes, I remember."

He straightened up from the car as Sara started the engine.

"See you back at the house."

" 'Kay, don't be long. Don't forget we have an OB GYN appointment today."

Grissom nodded, then watched the car pull away before reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a crumpled envelope. It was his 'insurance', typed out the day that Cavallo had emailed him with a summons to his office for a 'discussion'. It would need a fresh envelope, and he would have to alter the date of the letter, but the gist of it would remain the same. He hoped that he wouldn't need to use it, but it was best to be prepared.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara was preparing a warm chicken Caesar salad in the kitchen when she heard the sound of a key in the front door. Sara looked at her watch, surprised that Grissom was home already. They had been taking it in irregular turns to work late, so that it didn't look as if they were always leaving together. Either way, she was pleased that he was home early, so she dried her hands and hurried across the room, already in full flood.

"Hey, honey, if I'd known you were gonna be this early I'd have left brunch and got naked! My hormones are raging and you are sooo hot, you're just begging to be fu - "

Sara broke off in horrified embarrassment. There was a Grissom standing in front of her, but it wasn't the one that she had married.

It was his mother.

Blushing furiously, Sara wanted to vanish into a hole in the ground. But even as she was dying a thousand deaths, her brain was putting two and two together. Grissom's mother, complete with crutches and a case. And a plastered ankle. For a fleeting moment Sara wished that she were plastered – with alcohol. Suddenly and thankfully she realised that she might have been very lucky. Maybe Grissom's mom hadn't been looking up to lip-read anything that Sara said.

Mary Grissom had not expected anyone to be home or she would never have used the spare key that her son had given her. She expected that she looked just as surprised as this young woman did, though probably not for the same reason.

"I'm so sorry to have shocked you, I used the key. I hope you don't mind, but I had no idea there was anyone in. I was hoping to save Gil the extra drive out to collect me, so I had a friend of mine drop me here on his way to visit his daughter. You must be Sara. How nice to finally meet you."

Sara was still reeling in shock, hoping to heaven that she had not been 'read'. Half of Mary's explanation went right past her.

"No. Yes. I mean, no, it's okay about the key, and yes, it's nice to meet you too, Mrs Grissom."

Sara relieved Grissom's mother of her case and stood back to welcome her into the house.

Mary Grissom hobbled forward awkwardly and placed her right crutch in her left hand so that she could pat Sara on the arm.

"Call me Mary, we can't be 'Mrs Grissom-ing' all day, far too tiring."

Sara laughed, partly with relief. The Gods had been kind.

"Okay, thanks. Would you like something cold to drink? It's very hot out today."

Mary made her way past Sara, moving toward the brown leather couch. She sat down with heavy gratitude, placing the crutches on the floor beside her. When she looked up at her without answering, Sara realised that Mary hadn't heard her. The older woman was so good at lip reading that Sara had momentarily forgotten. She repeated her question to Mary's face.

"Oh, yes please, a cold drink would be lovely."

While Sara poured out some fresh lemonade Mary looked around her son's house with interest. It had been quite a while since she had been here, but she could see the changes that had come with her new daughter in law. She liked the feminine touch.

When Sara gave Mary her drink, the latter nodded to the rest of the room.

"It's amazing the difference a few subtle changes make to the place. It doesn't look quite so…"

Mary paused, looking for a tactful word. Sara smiled.

"So male? Stark? Not so much a home, more of a house?"

Mary smiled back, nodding.

"Yes. This day and age young women seem so insulted when you refer to 'a woman's touch' but that's what it needed. It feels complete, more of a home."

Sara shifted to get comfortable on her chair, having opted for one of the dining chairs so that she would be able to stand up with a measure of grace.

"Good. That's what we were aiming for."

The conversation looked like it would flounder for a moment, but Mary stepped in.

"When Gil told me about you and the baby, I was concerned because it was such a surprise, I hadn't heard anything about the two of you…"

Sara felt uncomfortable and took in a breath to reassure Grissom's mother that she had nothing to worry about, but the older woman wasn't finished.

"…but the expression on his face when he described the wedding and told me about the dress and the wedding bands, well, it was nothing short of wonderful. He looked so much happier than the last time I saw him."

Sara looked at Mary in surprise, her shock robbing her of the power of speech. The older woman was in full flow and didn't notice her lack of response. One thought was uppermost in Sara's mind.

_How did Grissom know the details of the wedding? _

TBC.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Not mine, more's the pity. Any song lyrics included here are under copyright by their original owners and no infringement is intended.

Title: Last Chance

Author: hazeleyes57

A/N : Sorry, still a WIP. Getting there, honestly.

Rating: R (no raunchy version this time, didn't seem the right thing to do :-) )

**Last Chance; chapter 21**

Grissom gradually surfaced from deep sleep. For several moments he lay staring blankly at the ceiling, wondering for a split second what day it was. He turned his head to the left to look at his alarm clock and the large red numbers silently informed him that it was four twenty in the afternoon. He rubbed a hand over his face to wake himself up a little more thoroughly.

Reality filtered back into Grissom's consciousness and he frowned, closing his eyes with relief. He had not yet been found out. His guilty conscious must be bothering him if he was starting to dream about Sara finding out that his memory had been restored.

It was ridiculous, but the longer he left it, the more difficult he found it to tell Sara the truth. She - quite rightly - would want to know why he hadn't told her the day it happened. No one else knew yet, not even Catherine, despite her being present when he had collapsed. God, what a mess. He had just been so relieved to find Sara was alive and well after the shooting that his own success seemed immaterial.

It had to stop. Regardless of the cost – and it might be a high one – he had to tell Sara the truth. Enough was enough. Nor was he going to hide his relationship with Sara any longer. He was going to inform his employer about his change of marital status. Sara's misguided desire to prevent their careers from suffering meant the both of them were investing too much energy in keeping up a pretense.

His mind made up, Grissom didn't exactly spring out of bed, but he got up with purpose. He put coffee on to filter and went to take a shower.

Grissom smiled as the water sprayed over him, unable to think of showering now without picturing Sara with him. He remembered the many enjoyed up at the cabin too. He would have to take Sara up there again before too long, their last opportunity before the baby arrived. She would probably find the hot tub very relaxing and supportive of her few extra pounds. Not that he would mention anything about weight. The pregnancy book he was reading mentioned that women were often sensitive about their extra weight despite the valid reason for its presence. The whole subject was a minefield.

Grissom stepped out of the shower and picked up his watch, wondering what time Sara and his mother would be back from their shopping expedition. As Sara was not due to work this evening, she had taken his mother out to have a look at 'things' for the baby. The two women were ideally matched, one pregnant and one in a walking cast. It would be a suitably slow trip.

As he had no real idea when the women would be back, Grissom prepared a vegetarian bolognaise to go with fresh spaghetti, and cooked one portion of the fresh pasta for himself. It only took two minutes and he could prepare more for the others as soon as they got back. He threw a quick salad together and put two thirds of it in an airtight container after he had taken some for himself.

By the time the fragrant sauce was ready, there was no sign of Sara and his mother so Grissom ate alone.

Somehow it seemed a lot lonelier than when he lived by himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara absently fingered her gold necklace with one hand while she waited for the bathtub to fill. The warm scented water was thick with bubbles and Sara used her free hand to swirl the water to distribute the foam more evenly. Her face was thoughtful, even a little sombre. She sighed heavily, or tried to. The baby made it difficult to take a deep breath; there just wasn't the room.

Sara stood up from her seated position on the side of the tub and turned off the faucets. The sudden quiet was unnerving; she hadn't realised how noisy the running water had been. She hoped that Mary hadn't been disturbed by it; her mother in law had retired to bed early after their exhausting shopping trip.

Sara returned to the bedroom, undressed and slipped on her robe. As she turned to go back to the bathroom she heard paper crinkle in the robe's pocket. She pulled it out, smoothing the well-worn piece of paper. It was the note Grissom had left for her during their first attempt to get her pregnant. She read the already memorised words again. _Grace under pressure. _

She didn't feel graceful; she didn't know how she really felt. Confused, maybe. But she was under pressure. Mary's inadvertent revelation that her son had been able to give her more details about their wedding than Sara had given him made her question other things. It was a matter of trust and openness; he had promised her that there would be no more secrets. While it was certainly within his character to be capable of playing his cards so close to his chest that even he couldn't see them, this was another matter entirely. Grissom hadn't lied exactly, because she had not asked him outright if his memory had returned, but he had lied by omission. It begged the question; what else had he lied about?

This uncertainty came at just about the worst time for Sara. As her due date came closer she had started getting moments of, well, panic seemed too strong a word, but certainly periods of anxiety where she questioned her ability to be a good mother. It wasn't even as if she had a good foundation laid down by her own parents. Motherhood was not a short-term project that she could have a stab at, then leave unfinished at the back of a closet if she found she had no talent for it. It was a lifelong commitment, not just until the baby made it to eighteen, or twenty-one. She would still worry and fret when this baby was an adult and perhaps a parent themselves. She could be a grandma by her mid fifties. Would she be better at that, one step removed…?

Sara tutted and cut the thought off as she stood in the middle of the room where she shared her most personal and vulnerable moments with Grissom. The internal dialogue was not helping and her hot soak was still waiting. She tried to dismiss her concerns as she re-entered the bathroom and closed the door. Most women probably had moments during their pregnancies where they had doubts about their parenting abilities. Sara gave another shallow sigh as she dropped her robe to the floor beside the tub and stepped carefully into the bubble-strewn water. She hadn't made it too hot and after a few moments while she adjusted to the temperature, she lay back and rested her head on the waterproof pillow.

She closed her eyes and made herself relax. Her mind drifted over various ways to confront Grissom about his memory, or better yet, get him to confess first.

Sara was not consciously aware that she had again taken hold of the two wedding bands looped on her necklace. When she realised what she was doing she examined the smaller of the two plain gold bands, then the larger one. She angled Grissom's band until the light enabled her to read the inscription engraved on the inside, a duplicate of her own.

_My glimpse of Heaven._

She smiled softly as she remembered Gil showing her the bands. He had been so pleased with himself finding someone at such short notice that was capable of doing the intricate work required on both of the bands. When Sara had asked if the words were from a quote Grissom had nodded;

"_To love is to receive a glimpse of Heaven." _

They had been standing in front of the large window of the main room at the cabin; the spectacular views a sharp contrast to the intimacy of the moment. Later, after they had made love, Grissom had held her as if she were the most precious thing in the whole world.

Sara felt the sting of tears as she lay in the tub. She wiped them away with a wet hand, making her face even more wet. It added irritation to her unhappiness and found herself muttering under her breath in less than flattering terms about her hormones. She wished that she could talk to Gil right now, so that he could reassure her that this was all perfectly normal and the wildly swinging emotions would settle eventually. Then she remembered all over again that _her_ Gil was here but that he had chosen not to tell her, and that set her off again.

Bizarrely she suddenly thought how grateful she was that she wasn't an elephant. They were pregnant for a lot longer than nine months. Sara's silent sobs turned to hiccups of thwarted laughter. The baby let her know that she was not alone by kicking a rib.

After twenty minutes of physical relaxation but mental gymnastics, Sara came to the decision that she was not going to tell Grissom that she suspected his memory had returned. There was the tiniest possibility that it had not returned in its entirety. Maybe this had been memory seepage and he had just remembered the odd piece here and there.

It was difficult not to go to his office and demand the truth. She was still angry and thought that in her current volatile state it was best to avoid a confrontation. She had told Grissom before the whole 'Miami' thing that he should trust her, now it was her turn to trust him. She would wait for him to tell her.

Sara sat up and reached for the washcloth. She missed the buoyancy afforded by the water and was left feeling heavier than when she got in tub. She was very tempted to stay where she was. For weeks.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Something was wrong.

Grissom couldn't put his finger on whatever it was, but something was definitely not right. It had started shortly before he had told Sara that he was going to let the 'powers that be' at work know about the two of them. She had told him in no uncertain terms that she thought it was a terrible idea and insisted that he not say anything. Her reaction had surprised and concerned him, but he agreed to wait a little longer. But now he was certain that something else was upsetting her. Grissom wondered if Sara might have said anything about whatever was distressing her to his mother, but he dismissed that idea as totally out of character.

Conversely, his mother seemed in fine spirits; she had enjoyed visiting with them but had not stayed longer than a week. He had driven her back to Santa Monica and ensured that she had everything that she needed before driving back the same day. It was a long day's drive, but Grissom wanted to get back to Sara and find out what was going on. Or not going on.

Sara appeared to have got on well with his mother, she was her usual self at work, the work dynamic still as it was before between them, if one discounted the enforced distance required during working hours. Her working relationships with the other members of the shift didn't appear to have altered either.

But when the two of them got back to the townhouse there was a difference. It was subtle and a year ago Grissom probably would not have noticed it at all, but being with Sara had altered his perceptions about many things including – as his mother had noticed – his ability to relate to others.

Grissom could only describe it as a measure of reserve. On the surface things were the same; they still laughed together, still talked about the baby, still went to baby classes together and still made love – albeit more carefully as Sara's size increased – but there was this lack of 'something'. It reminded of when he first realised that he was going deaf. The inability to hear distanced him mentally, but also physically, because he couldn't discern the subtle nuances of speech. Sara was holding part of herself back. There was a definite layer of _something_ between the two of them now, but when he asked her if anything was wrong she had just given him her usual megawatt smile and told him that everything was fine.

It did not escape his notice that she had said 'everything' was fine.

She didn't say that _she_ was fine.

As was the pattern of his past, Grissom took Sara at her word but let his fears sit at the back of his mind. He tried not to let them influence his behaviour towards Sara, but the effort he made to remain unchanged by his thoughts did alter the way he behaved.

Sara, already feeling ultra sensitive about the changes wrought by the pregnancy and her insecurity about her maternal capabilities, immediately picked up on her husband's new edginess, assumed that he was feeling crowded both physically and emotionally and tried to step back to 'give him some space'.

Grissom immediately noticed Sara's withdrawal. His fears moved from the back of his brain to the front and married life lost some of its glow. He tried to give Sara some space.

It was during one of his efforts to get Warrick to partner Sara on a case – when it was obvious that Grissom would have been a far more suitable candidate – that Catherine finally asked to see Grissom in his office.

The feisty redhead had closed the office door behind the two of them and looked at Grissom until he had eventually had to ask her if there was a problem.

She had given him a look that said 'you're my friend and my colleague, so listen up'.

"You know, I was just going to ask you the same question. Naturally you are going to deny that there is a problem, and I could counter with some witty repartee or pithy wisdom. But I won't. All I'm saying on the matter is don't let your professional judgement be compromised by your private life…"

Catherine quickly held up her hand to stave off Grissom's automatic protest.

"…_and_ to say how pleased I am that you finally _have _a private life. But the crunch of eggshells underfoot around here is getting tiresome. You need to straighten a few things out and so does Sara."

Catherine ignored the start of surprise that Grissom was not able to hide, and her voice softened.

"Try to remember that she is going through something that will change her whole life. How she looks at herself, how she looks at others and how they relate to her. How she relates to others. Her priorities will change, she has little choice. But she needs a constant in her life, some touchstone that will keep her grounded, give her a measure of security. Someone that cares enough to be there for her. Talk to her Gill, but remember to _listen_."

There was a long moment of silence as Grissom absorbed what Catherine had said. None of it came as a surprise; he knew the truth of it. What appalled him was how far things had slipped since the trip to the cabin. The comfortable ease between him and Sara was missing and he blamed himself. It was up to him to do something about it. He looked up at Catherine.

"You work with Warrick. I'll go with Sara."

Catherine nodded, an acknowledgement that he had taken her advice on board.

About damn time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You haven't forgotten tomorrow?"

Sara looked up at Catherine as the latter stuck her head into the Trace Lab. Sara straightened up with care and shifted to ease her back. Six weeks to go until 'B' day and it was her last day – or night – at work for now.

"No I haven't forgotten. Eleven your place, look surprised. Got it."

Catherine grinned.

"Cool."

Sara smiled in acknowledgement as Catherine backed out. Greg looked over at Sara, his puzzlement obvious.

"Tomorrow?"

"Surprise baby shower."

"Not a surprise then?"

"Can't stand the shock. Bad for me. Bad for Catherine if I get one."

Greg smirked as he picked up the still-warm printout from the mass spec. and glanced at it before handing it over to Sara. He looked very 'cat has got the cream'.

"No surprises here either. Looks like we have the car lot rapist in custody."

"Yay!"

The two of them high-five'd and Sara was pleased to be present when the last piece of evidence had checked out. She would be leaving on a good note. She tried to keep her smile from slipping when she realised that this was her last case for some while. Sara handed the sheet back to Greg.

"Here, you go tell Grissom. It was your case too."

Greg looked at her, unsurprised at her generosity. He smiled gently, picking up her subtle distress.

"Only if you come with me. After all, it is _Grissom. _I may need protection."

Greg gave a full body shiver and pretended to be terrified. Sara feigned exasperation.

"Oh, come on then, chicken."

They discovered that Catherine and Nick were already talking to Grissom when they got to his office, and Greg made a move to turn away.

Grissom glanced up briefly before he resumed patting papers and moving files on his desk, searching for a pen that he had just put down.

"It's okay, we're nearly done here. Come on in."

Greg looked at Sara and she shrugged minutely. They entered the office.

Catherine turned back to Grissom again.

"Just one more thing. The court date for your case involving the four college boys who were joy riding and hit the driver changing his tire had been moved up to the week after next."

Grissom, slightly distracted, nodded, remembering the case well. He had been solo on the case to begin with as they hadn't at first realised that it was anything other than a terrible accident. It was only later when they realised that the boys had known the victim that the true picture had emerged and Grissom was the only one who could vouch for the initial collection of evidence, which was vital for a conviction. It had been the last case he completed before he took Sara to the cabin.

"It's okay, I've been through the file."

Catherine looked concerned. She tried to be tactful.

"Yes, but that's not the same as being there. What if you can't remember and they ask you a question about something that's not in the file…?"

Grissom looked up at Catherine but a brief, almost subliminal flinch behind her made him catch Sara's eye instead. He found that he couldn't look away from the strange expression on her face. Her dark eyes were totally focused on him and she seemed to be waiting for something. Her whole body was rigid with tense anticipation. What could she be waiting for? Why the tension? All Catherine had said was 'if you can't remember'.

Grissom's stomach lurched. Sara was waiting for _him._

_She knew about his restored memory._

He saw the moment that she saw his realisation. Sara blinked once, releasing him. In her eyes he could see her sad regret and her disappointment, but also her anger. All at once Grissom wanted to go to her and explain the unexplainable. He stood up quickly as she turned away.

It had all happened in a split second and no one else seemed to have noticed the interaction. Catherine looked at Grissom in surprise as he moved around his desk and he almost ran in to her when she didn't move out of the way quickly enough.

"Grissom?"

Grissom looked at Catherine and he froze momentarily. What to do? Go after Sara or stay and do the work he was being paid to do?

There was no contest.

Grissom continued moving towards the door of his office by instinct, but habit made him briefly turn back to Catherine. Nick and Greg both wore the expression of someone who knew that they had missed something, but didn't know what. They looked at each other, then back at the two other occupants of the room.

"Catherine, don't worry about the trial, I have my memory back, it'll be okay. Nick, leave the report on my desk and I'll get back to you shortly. Greg, DNA yes or no?"

Greg was proud of the fact that he wasn't left floundering amid the flurry of directions. He looked startled but managed to blurt 'yes' before his Supervisor got to the door. Grissom nodded in his direction.

"Good. Tell Brass."

And then he was gone.

The three remaining people looked at each other. Catherine blew her bangs out of her eyes and put one hand on a hip as she looked at the two men with exasperation.

"He has his memory back."

She snapped her fingers.

"Just like that!"

Nick placed his report file on Grissom's desk where it would be the first thing he would see when he returned. Whenever that would be.

"So it seems. But he sure does look like a man who has lost something."

Greg frowned at the printout in his hand. He would put it in its file and hand it in later. The only time he had ever seen Grissom get even vaguely this rattled was usually when it had something to do with…he looked at the open door and back at the others.

"Where did Sara go?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sara! Wait!"

Sara paid no heed to her husband's voice. She continued to make her way to the locker room and, once there proceeded to remove her personal items from her designated locker with briskly efficient movements. Grissom had followed her and now stood behind her, waiting for her to turn around. When it was clear that she was not going to, he reached out and touched her arm.

Sara looked at the hand on her arm then at its owner. Grissom fought the urge to drop his hand immediately and she arched an eyebrow. He could feel the frost.

When it was obvious that he wasn't going to let her arm go, she looked at him while blindly stuffing things into her purse.

"What could you possibly say to me that would explain why you would rather let me think that your memory had not returned?"

Sara didn't give him chance to reply. The hurt was plain to see on her face.

"What was so bad about our short time together that you…?" She broke off. "How could you?"

Although quietly voiced, Sara's question was raw with pain. Grissom thought that he couldn't feel any worse than he did, but he was wrong. There was a long pause while he struggled to find the words he needed. When they came he was aware of their inadequacy.

"I'm sorry."

When it looked as if Sara was going to tell him that 'sorry' wasn't good enough, he held up his free hand, its palm facing Sara, wanting to soothe her, but unsure how to do so.

"When I woke up and realised that I could remember everything – everything about _us_ -, I was overjoyed. But crashing down on that was the realisation that you might be wounded or…"

Grissom couldn't even bring himself to finish the terrible thought.

"By the time you walked in that door, safe and sound, all I could think was that you were still here and we had another chance at a future that I'd never thought possible, one that I twice thought I'd lost."

Sara had stopped shoving things into her overcrowded purse. She searched Grissom's eyes for some extra clue.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me later."

Sara was holding her overstuffed purse to her chest as if her life depended on it. Grissom sighed, exhaling heavily. He did not have a reasonable answer. In retrospect it seemed absurd that he had not told her the truth.

"Sara - "

Sara's eyes flashed and she cut Grissom off abruptly.

"NO!"

Grissom was taken aback by her vehemence. He didn't have time to draw breath before Sara continued.

"It's too late. Y'know, I know it got a little bumpy in the middle for a while, but things improved and I waited. I had faith and I waited for you to tell me the truth. But you didn't, not until you had to admit it for a case. Not for your wife, but for a_ case_. Just how long were you going to leave it?"

Grissom's mouth opened but nothing came out for a long moment. A sense of calm stole over him. It was the type of preternatural calm that comes with the realisation that you are about to either die in combat or you are so screwed that it couldn't get any worse.

"I wasn't going to leave it, I have been wanting to tell you for some time, but I admit that I was wrong. For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Sara felt some of the tension leave her shoulders and neck. But she was not ready to forgive Grissom yet; he had hit her right in the middle of her insecurities when she was at her most vulnerable. She had opened her mouth to respond when they were interrupted by a voice from the direction of the doorway.

"Hey, there you are! What's this? You tryna sneak off without your leaving gift and the sumptuous offering of nibbles?"

Sara's mouth snapped shut. Great, more people, just what she wanted.

Grissom stopped himself from turning to face Greg, using his body to shield Sara until she had time to recover. It also gave him time to school his own features. He looked Sara in the eyes as he gently squeezed her arm.

"We have to talk, this isn't over."

Sara's ultra saccharine smile was a work of art as she removed Grissom's hand.

"That's not something that you get to decide."

She shut her now empty locker and dropped her keys into her crammed purse, then waited pointedly for Grissom to move aside so that she could join the others. He stepped back, allowing her to pass by. After a long moment he followed, heading for the break room.

Regardless of how he was managing to blind his superiors to his relationship with Sara, there were people on this shift who knew that he and Sara were together and that the baby was his. It would be inappropriate for him not be present on her last day, both as her Supervisor and as her partner. Besides that, he wanted to be there.

His pace didn't alter when he heard the laughter. He'd get there soon enough, and for now he needed to learn to be patient until Sara forgave him.

It would be a while longer before he forgave himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Catherine surveyed her living room and wondered whether it would be easier to clean up later. There were several sheets of torn wrapping paper strewn about and the assorted catering mess of glasses and flatware dotted around. Sara had offered to stay and help clear up but Catherine wouldn't hear of it. It was Sara's baby shower and she wasn't going to have Sara do anything but sit and enjoy her party.

Catherine went and changed out of her party finery into clothes more suited to clearing up. She had barely got started when she heard Warrick's voice from the hall.

"Hey, is it safe to come in yet?"

Warrick stuck his head into the room, his expression wary. Catherine grinned.

"Sure! I could use another pair of hands."

Warrick sauntered over to Catherine and he took the tray of glasses out of her hands. Placing the tray down on the coffee table he turned and gave Catherine a kiss of greeting.

"How did it go?"

Catherine had to think for a second, her mind having transferred to an altogether different track. Warrick really did have the most fabulous eyes. She gathered her wits.

"Oh, yes, fine, the party went well and Sara was happy with her gifts as far as I could tell."

"Cool."

Warrick linked his arms loosely around Catherine's waist, his expression becoming unusually serious.

"Is it me, or do you think that there's something wrong between those two?"

Catherine had mirrored Warrick's embrace, but she leaned back a little to make eye contact.

"You mean between Sara and Gil? Mmm, I've been wondering the same thing. Something happened in Gil's office yesterday that set me thinking. Gil told us that he had his memory back and seconds later – without a word, Sara vanishes. More amazing yet, Gil vamoosed a minute or two later. Nicky's of the opinion he went after Sara."

Catherine continued to hold Warrick, her hands in the back pockets in the seat of his pants. He tried not to be too distracted by the hands on his butt.

"You think it's linked?"

"Well, it's a leap, but thinking about it now in retrospect, I think Sara was as surprised as we were when Gil said that he had his memory back. I don't think he'd told her. God knows why not, but He ain't talkin."

Warrick looked down into Catherine's eyes and his arms pulled her closer.

"Well, they have less than six weeks to figure it out. After that they will have a whole lot less time on their hands."

Catherine absently 'umm'd' in agreement, but her smile had altered from amusement to something a lot more personal.

"Speaking of which, we have just over an hour until Lindsey gets home from school."

Warrick looked around the room, his expression innocent.

"Gee, I guess we'd better get started on the clearing up."

Catherine nodded, her expression just as guileless.

"Ahuh."

Warrick's hands slid down to cup her butt and he pulled her up and closer to him, allowing her to feel the effect that she had on him. His eyes wandered all over her face, finally settling on her lips.

"Where should we start?"

Catherine smirked as she ground her hips against his arousal.

"The master bedroom."

Warrick's smirk was threatening to break out.

"Really? Is it very dirty in there?"

Catherine's lips were scant inches from Warrick's ear.

"Positively filthy."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grissom let himself into the townhouse, left his jacket on the nearest available chair and dropped his keys on the kitchen bar. It had been a pig of a night and without Sara there these last few days they had been very busy. His neck was stiff with tension and he rolled his head and shoulders to try to ease the pressure. What he could do with was a long hot shower but he didn't want to wake Sara if she was still sleeping. The place seemed very quiet and still. He looked around and noticed how tidy everything was. He frowned, the first stirrings of unease moving through him.

Grissom went to the bedroom, treading softly just in case Sara was asleep. To his relief she was lying in bed, facing the side he slept in, and hugging one of his pillows. One shapely leg was on top of the bedding and Grissom smiled wistfully when he saw the discreet tattoo on her ankle. It always brought back good memories.

He quietly crossed the room, kicked off his loafers and shrugged out of his T-shirt. He removed his watch, then his socks, pants and boxers. He took the clothes to the laundry hamper in the bathroom and padded softly back to the big bed. Although uncertain of his welcome, he lifted the covers on his side and slid carefully in beside Sara. He thought that he'd made it without waking her, but she opened her eyes a little and then smiled sleepily.

"Mmm, it's you."

Grissom smiled – partly with relief - as Sara shoved the pillow out of the way, allowing him to take its place.

"You were expecting someone else?"

Sara settled back against him, rested her head on his chest and placed her arm over his stomach. Her voice was drowsy.

"Nah, all my other lovers are busy."

Grissom looked at her, one eyebrow on the climb.

"For which I am grateful. I get you to myself."

"Mmmm."

Grissom's headache was easing as he relaxed, settled back against his pillows and closed his eyes. He was relieved that Sara hadn't given him the cold shoulder.

She was quiet for several minutes and he thought that she had gone back to sleep. He was just drifting off himself when she stirred.

"You smell like work."

Grissom opened his eyes and looked down into Sara's.

"Is it bad? Do you want me to go and shower?"

"No, it's'okay. I like it. A combination of Greg's lab chemical smell, the general fugg of the place and, of course, the washrooms soap. I kinda miss it."

"What? The soap?"

"No, silly. Just work, I guess. And that's after only one day."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's not your fault. I went in for this with my eyes open."

Grissom pulled Sara closer, his hand slowly stroking the top of her arm.

"Actually I wasn't apologising, I was sympathising. Although we both went into this with our eyes open, that's not the same as knowing what was going to happen and how we would feel about all of it."

Grissom looked at her again and wondered for the thousandth time why some benevolent higher power had smiled on him.

"But I am sorry for hurting you through my own stupidity and fear. If I could go back and change it, I would. I don't want to lose you or what we have together."

Sara didn't answer for several moments, her face thoughtful. Grissom could feel the baby moving around where Sara was pressed against his right side and he was briefly distracted, wondering what it felt like from her point of view.

Finally Sara let out a small sigh.

"It'll take more than that to make me walk away from our family. But I'm still angry and it's going to take a while to get past this. It felt like a betrayal and I can't let that go…yet."

She pinned Grissom with her dark eyes and he could feel her residual anger.

"Don't ever lie to me again, by either word or omission. I don't want to do this on my own, but I can and will if I have to."

Grissom did not doubt Sara for a moment. After yesterday's confrontation, he was grateful that she hadn't already decided that she could manage without him.

"I can't promise that I'll never let you down again, I warned you that I was bad at the whole relationship thing. But I can promise that I won't knowingly hurt you."

"It's a start. And you're not bad at this relationship; you just need to work on it. I thought we had that figured out up at the cabin. Things were good there, and although we knew it would change back here, I never thought we'd get to this point."

Sara sounded subdued, and Grissom was profoundly sorry that he had caused this.

"I'll make it up to you. I owe you that, at least."

Sara shook her head and looked in to Grissom's eyes. This time he thought he saw a measure of forgiveness.

"No. You don't owe me anything other than the promise you just gave me. Besides, don't you know that no one ever loses if no one's keeping score?"

One side of Grissom's mouth tipped up at the corner and he frowned with concentration.

"Is that a quote? It sounds familiar."

"Lyrics from a song."

"I like the principle idea. Who is it by?"

"Chely Wright. Interestingly, the song is called 'For the long run'. About being in a relationship for the long run, good and bad."

Grissom obviously was not familiar with the flame-haired singer, but Sara wondered if he'd remember the tune, as she did play the CD at the townhouse occasionally. She hummed a few bars, then sang,

"_But the good times keep on coming, and the bad ones ain't so bad. And the worst that ever happens is still the best I've ever had. One thing that you taught me that I never knew before; no one ever loses if no one's keeping score."_

While Sara had been singing, Grissom's hand had stopped moving on her arm. When she had finished, he looked at her. It was a moment before he found his voice.

"You are an amazing woman."

Sara looked at him, her expression serious.

"You can be astute."

Grissom pursed his lips, frowning.

"Not often enough."

He had missed the easy banter and the sharp quips that used to fly between them, and it was obvious to him that they still had some way to go before that was re-established. But at least she was speaking to him.

"Thank you."

Sara lifted her head and looked at him, a slightly wary expression on her face.

"What for?"

"Everything. For not giving up on me."

Sara feigned nonchalance, her right hand absently roving over Grissom's chest.

"Yeah, well, too much time invested in you to quit now."

Sara's hand on Grissom's chest was stirring up all sorts of ideas in him that did not involve going to sleep. He captured her moving hand and held it still as a sudden thought struck him.

"In all these weeks that you've been distant, you never withdrew from me physically. You never made me feel that I wasn't welcome in your bed."

"Or anywhere else?"

Sara's answer was flippant, but her expression was unexpectedly serious.

"Or anywhere else."

Grissom agreed, still intrigued and waiting for her answer.

"I was angry with you, but I didn't see why I had to be punished too. Women who cross their legs as soon as the guy has done something wrong obviously don't enjoy sex. I am not one of those women."

"No, you certainly are not."

Sara hid her smile at his heartfelt tone. He wasn't quite off the hook yet.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"But this isn't about what you think. I need to do this."

Grissom looked at Sara with something very close to exasperation. He was more than concerned about her. He stood one side of their bed, while Sara stood at the foot of it, beside an open suitcase already partway filled with clothing. Grissom's voice was firm, with no sign of his underlying fear.

"Sara, we've been over this. I've said I'm sorry, what more can I do?"

At thirty-five weeks pregnant Sara was neatly rounded with the baby, her legs were fabulous and Grissom thought she still looked great. All except for the stubborn look on her face.

"I've already accepted your apology. This isn't about that or you. This is about _me_. I need to get away for a few days. Before you know it the baby will be here and we'll have no time to ourselves."

Grissom allowed her glare to bounce off him almost unnoticed. She had never needed time to herself before he had been a prize idiot. He felt the ground he had recovered over the last few days slipping away from him as he struggled to find a compromise.

"I understand that, but this is ridiculous. You can't go away on your own like this, not when you are so close to your due date. At least wait until I can come with you; the Mackenzie case will be over by the weekend then I can drive you almost anywhere you like."

Sara carefully straightened from her case. She folded another T-shirt and added it to the pile.

"That's nearly a week away; even closer to D-day. And 'come with you' kinda invalidates the whole 'I need to get away' thing."

She didn't feel as calm as she was hoping she looked. But she knew that Grissom would try to prevent her going if she lost her cool with him.

Grissom sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. He looked at the case.

"How long are you thinking of being away 'finding' yourself?"

Sensing a whiff of weakness, Sara allowed the slightly sarcastic tone to pass.

"Just a few days. I would be back by the weekend, and then you'll be free as well. We could do something together."

Grissom had little or no choice; it was obvious that Sara had already decided on this course of action. He could see that there was no real expectation of getting her to change her mind.

"Fine, go if you must."

Sara's face relaxed, but she didn't leap for joy. No sense rubbing it in and she wasn't in any fit state to leap anywhere.

But Grissom wasn't finished.

"There are some conditions."

Sara's expression was a wary blend of resigned acceptance and suspicion.

"Which are…?"

Grissom crossed to the bedroom closet and lifted out the pre-packed baby bag for the hospital. It contained everything that she would need when she was admitted to hospital in labour.

"Take this with you. Remember to keep your cellphone charged. Call me when you get to your hotel and let me know that you are okay."

Sara nodded, prepared to be more agreeable now that she had got her own way. Grissom wasn't finished yet and she could tell from his expression that this was leaving a bad taste.

"And I want you to rest. No rushing about."

Sara walked around the bed and went to Grissom, laying a hand on his arm. She searched his face for a sign that she was getting through to him.

"I'll be okay. The baby's not due for over a month, and the clinic said that everything was fine yesterday."

That was another bone of contention; Grissom had not been able to make yesterday's appointment with Sara because it clashed with a court appearance for him.

"When is your next visit?"

"Monday next, ten sharp. I'll be here. Hell, I'll be here by Friday."

Sara tried to reassure Grissom, but he refused the consolation.

"When are you leaving?"

Grissom's tone was resigned, and Sara felt a spark of annoyance, which she immediately quelled. He wouldn't be the man he was if he wasn't concerned about her welfare. She slipped her arms around his waist and felt his arms come up around her.

"I might as well go today, especially now that I'm packed."

Grissom frowned as he went through his mental checklist.

"Where is this place again?"

Had Grissom been looking directly at Sara instead of holding her in a close embrace he might have seen the slightly evasive look that momentarily crossed her face when she answered his question.

"A little place over in Lake Mead way. Quiet, restful, with no casinos or all night parties."

Grissom would have asked for more details, but Sara forestalled any further questions by kissing him. Although surprised, he responded automatically without any conscious thought of resisting. He dismissed as uncharitable the idea that he had just been skilfully manipulated. When they parted they looked at each other for a long moment. Both had expressions that were speculative, one wickedly amused and the other as if judging whether or not they had time for this.

Grissom decided that he would damn well make time, providing he could sleep for _some_ of the afternoon he should be rested enough to work that night.

"Do you have to leave right now?"

Sara, both aroused and relieved that she had diverted Grissom, smiled sincerely.

"I think I could be persuaded to go a little later."

Grissom pulled his head back to get Sara back in focus. His lips twitched with amusement.

" 'A little'?"

Sara grinned as her hands slid up Grissom's arms to his shoulders, with one hand continuing on up into the slightly unruly salt and pepper curls at the back of his head. The next kiss was longer and left her somewhat breathless and flushed.

"Okay, maybe more than a little."

If Grissom had any thought of keeping Sara in bed so long that she gave up the idea of leaving in the afternoon he had enough sense to keep it to himself. As he moved Sara's case to the floor and pulled back the bedding, he was not above thinking that this was not the first time that he had tried to tell Sara how much he loved her with action instead of words.

He hoped it worked this time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grissom insisted on checking over Sara's car to make sure that she would have no trouble with it on her journey. Having looked at the tires, the lights, checked the oil and gas level, he finally conceded that she was okay to leave. He did have one more stab at putting her off going.

"You sure you're okay to drive? How far are you going?"

Sara had her shades on for the drive so she felt reasonably confidant that Grissom would not see any telltale sign of deceit in her expression.

"Not far, so don't worry. I'll call you when I get there, okay?"

Grissom wanted to point out that he was not 'okay' about any of this, but he remained quiet. Sara was a strong willed woman and was determined to get her own way. He only hoped neither of them lived to regret it.

Sara took his silence as assent and started the engine. Grissom stepped back from the vehicle and waited for her to pull away. She did so with her usual brisk efficiency and the last he saw of her was the wave of a hand out of the left-hand front window. Then she was gone.

Grissom stood there for a while, frowning as he looked down the empty roadway. When he realised that one of his neighbours was giving him a curious look, he turned and went back inside the townhouse. He felt slightly on edge. It wasn't just the simple fact that he thought Sara was being irresponsible – which he did - it was the feeling that he'd missed something important in their conversation. He shook his head as if to clear it, and crossed the floor to his kitchen area to clear the remains of their recent meal. Perhaps if he tried not to think about it, the conversation would replay and he could find out what he had missed.

Left alone to his own devices for the first time in a while at home and too restless to sleep, Grissom walked over to the B&O and looked through the music collection, now somewhat larger than it had been. He flicked through the jewel cases, not sure what he was in the mood for. Anything but the oppressive silence that he had once thought so peaceful. He stopped at one case and lifted it out for closer inspection. The titian-haired woman on the simply styled cover stared out at him, a half-smile on her face. So that was 'Chely'. He flicked the case over and read the back. The third track, 'One night in Las Vegas' made him blink but he moved down the list until he read 'For the long run'. Although it wasn't his usual style of music, curiosity made him take out the disc and load it into the CD player. He skipped though to track nine and pressed play.

As the music filled the room, Grissom settled on the couch to listen. After about a minute, he wasn't sure if this was a love song or not. The man involved appeared to be less than faithful. The chorus came up for the second time.

'_So I just laughed it off, it's no big deal. It's a scratch I know tomorrow you're gonna heal. It's the easiest thing I could have done when you love someone for the long run…"_

Grissom realised that it probably was designed to be a love song, with forgiveness at its heart. The fact that it was lyrics from this song that Sara quoted to him gave him cause for optimism. He hoped that it was a sign that she would forgive him in the end. He was reasonably sure that she didn't see him as the unfaithful sort. Ha, that would be a laugh. Hell, he couldn't even be unfaithful to Sara when he _wasn't_ dating her. She intruded in every situation with every woman that he had spoken to, even on a casual basis. He was familiar with his internal dialogue constantly reminding him that Sara had darker hair, or better shaped eyes, or a nicer nose, or longer legs – God those long _long_ legs – or better, more kissable lips. Lady Heather had been the only woman who had even come close, and she had intrigued him despite his long-running 'Sara' thing.

Grissom listened to a few more tracks and found he was beginning to drift off to sleep. He used the remote to turn off the music system and dragged himself off to bed. The bedroom smelled of Sara, the bed more so. As he climbed into the rumpled bed he pulled across one of Sara's pillows and slid it down beside him. If he couldn't have his wife here, her perfume was the next best thing. Scent triggered the memory more than any other sense.

Less than ten minutes later he was asleep, a frown slowly easing from his forehead.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara looked at her watch and decided that it was a good time to make a pit stop. She desperately wanted a rest room and she was nowhere near her destination. She recognised where she was and turned off the highway, into a car lot attached to a small restaurant. Within a very short space of time she had made herself much more comfortable and could turn her mind to a small meal.

She wondered if the pie was still as good as she remembered.

Less than half an hour later Sara was back in her car. The pie was better than she recalled and she had a second portion carefully wrapped in a napkin to eat later. She still had at least another hour and a half of her journey to complete and she might not pass another stop before she was hungry again. She stopped for gas before she left the town, making sure that she had enough fuel for her journey.

An hour later Sara was beginning to wonder whether it had been wise to mislead Grissom as to her destination. She had only wanted a couple of days to herself, to give her time to think, without him turning up early. She had told him Lake Mead, less than an hour from Vegas, when in actual fact she was on her way to the cabin. She had bought a map in Rachel and had the route written down on a sheet of notepaper. She had been awake on this last part of the journey with Grissom and her memory of the route was very good, as was her sense of direction.

What was giving Sara cause for concern were the dark clouds building up ahead, making the previously bright day seem to slip into premature dusk. With apprehension making her cautious, the last leg of her journey seemed to take longer than she remembered, and she was more than grateful to finally arrive at Grissom's cabin. Sara was by now desperate for the toilet again, and in her haste to get up the last part of the track, she failed to notice that there were no lights visible in Mrs. Weston's cabin further down the mountain.

When Sara emerged from the cabin to collect her case from the car ten minutes later the daylight had deteriorated further and the wind was rising. It was a struggle getting her stuff into the cabin with the gusts threatening to take the box of food out of her hands. When she finally got the last of her things out of the car, she was dismayed to feel a smattering of raindrops on her face.

Inside the cabin it was quieter. Sara was a little perturbed that the place seemed to smell a little stale and closed up. When she had tried to contact Mrs. Weston earlier in the week, she had been unable to speak to her in person. She had left a message on her answerphone, telling her that she would be staying at the cabin this week, but now the refrigerator had no fresh food or milk in it and there was a fine layer of dust evident on the horizontal surfaces around the various rooms.

Despite her misgivings, Sara sent a text to Grissom's cell to let him know that she had arrived safely. She figured that he would still be asleep, and it avoided having to answer any questions about her location. After the message had been sent, Sara made herself a mug of decaf coffee using milk from the carton that she had brought with her, then rummaged in her box of foodstuffs for a can of thick vegetable soup. It wouldn't be a patch on Grissom's home-made soup, but it would be better than nothing. She searched for a bowl suitable to use in the microwave oven, and once the soup was heating through, she made some toast. She was sure that once she had a full stomach, things wouldn't seem too bad. She could manage without the fresh groceries until tomorrow. The weather was bound to perk up; it wasn't as if it were winter after all.

As Sara sat down to enjoy her meal, she had no idea how wrong she was.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As soon as Grissom woke up he checked his cellphone for messages. He was relieved that Sara had arrived safely, but frowned when he checked the time of the message. Either it had taken her considerably more time to get to Lake Mead than she had expected, or Sara had not sent the message as soon as she had arrived at her hotel.

Grissom swung his legs to the floor of the bedroom as he dialled Sara's cellphone. He was already regretting his acquiescence over Sara's departure, and the longer the cell rang, the more convinced he was that something was wrong.

Suddenly the telephone was answered.

"Hi honey, you got my text then?"

Sara sounded a little breathless. Anxiety made Grissom's voice sharp.

"Finally. Where have you been?"

Eyebrows raised, Sara looked at the cellphone in her hand as if it would allow her to see Grissom's expression. After a count of five, she replied, her tone light.

"Imagine if you will that you are tired from carrying what feels like twenty kilos of water under your shirt. You sit down in a low chair and find that you have difficulty getting up again. Then your cell, which, naturally, you have left out of reach, starts to ring. With me so far…?"

Grissom was not in the least mollified by Sara's explanation. He leaned forward, placing one of his elbows on a muscular thigh and holding the cell to his ear with his other hand. His voice was terse, his words clipped.

"Sara, I'm not in the mood. Are you okay?"

"No, Grissom, I fell half way down the mountain, ass over tit, and am lying at the bottom, thinking about how irresponsible I am."

Grissom knew that he was under attack – she had called him 'Grissom' and in _that_ tone of voice.

"Sarcasm is still the lowest form of wit. It's not unusual for – what mountain?"

Grissom's sharp question caught Sara wrong-footed. She had completely forgotten that she was supposed to be at Lake Mead. She scrabbled for a plausible explanation.

"Eight months pregnant; every small hill feels like a mountain. You know how it is."

Sara tried to be conciliatory, but without appearing to yield too quickly. That was the trouble with being married to someone with such a quick, sharp mind. She hurried on.

"So, I'm here now. What's up?"

The silence seemed to stretch for long minutes as Sara crossed her fingers. Eventually Grissom answered.

"No, I don't know 'how it is'. I'm sorry that you think I have no right to be worried when you are away from me at this late stage in your pregnancy. Nothing is 'up'. I was just calling to see that you had everything you need…"

Sara looked around the kitchen and realised with a pang that the cabin had seemed far more 'alive' when Grissom had been here with her. She thought she heard him sigh.

" …And to see if you have changed your mind about coming…home."

Grissom's small hesitation was nearly her undoing. She suddenly wished that she were beside him now. She forced her voice to be brighter. She'd made her bed; now she had to lie in it.

"I'm good, I have pretty much what I need." _Except you._ " I'll be back the day after tomorrow."

Sara could almost hear Grissom's frustration over the cellphone. When he didn't say anything for a long moment, Sara opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

"Sara…"

Nothing else was forthcoming as Grissom tried to find a logical way to explain the most illogical pattern of events that had led them to this moment. Every sentence that he got started in his head seemed to go nowhere and he could not find a succinct way of getting his point across. It was so frustrating. He knew that he had every right to be feeling the way he did about her bizarre desire to be alone for a few days, but he couldn't say 'I want you here, now' without it sounding selfish and autocratic. Maybe he was being selfish, but it was his baby too. He wanted the baby safe, but way out in front of that thought, he wanted Sara safe. With him. Now. How could he explain…?

"Gil? You still there?"

Grissom's mindvoice said 'always' but his mouth kept his secret.

"Yes. Sorry. Take your time. I'll see you…whenever." _How did we get here? Did I do all of this? We were so close back at the cabin._

Another brick was added to the wall that Grissom was inadvertently building around his heart. He was backing off to protect himself.

Even Sara's voice seemed further away.

"Day after tomorrow, Gil. I'll be back soon. I gotta go, the cell needs recharging. Love yo- "

The connection was cut abruptly before Grissom had chance to reply. But he said it anyway.

"Love you too, Sara."

Grissom dropped his cellphone on the bed beside him and stared unseeingly at floor. After a minute or so of silent contemplation, he leaned over and opened the previously locked bedside drawer. He reached to the back of the drawer and pulled out a small brown jewellery box. He flipped open the lid, revealing a ring-bed of white silk. Securely held in its soft embrace was a gold ring inset with three princess-cut diamonds. One diamond for each of them.

He had discovered that Sara thought emeralds and rubies were unlucky. She did not mention sapphires at all, so he had been keeping an open mind for either sapphires or diamonds when window-shopping. When Grissom laid eyes on this ring he just _knew_ that it was 'the one'. He had been in and out of the jewellers inside ten minutes. The ring was a one-off, part of a selection that a new artist had made for showcasing his talent, and, most extraordinary of all, it was the right size for Sara. Had Grissom believed in such a fickle thing as fate, he would have said that it was meant to be.

Grissom closed the lid with a snap. He had not planned anything yet for his 'proposal'. He couldn't think of any original or unusual way of doing it. He felt slightly hampered by the fact that as they were already married, he couldn't just say 'please marry me' over a nice meal at her favourite restaurant. _Ah, Sara, look what you do to me._ He got up and headed for the shower.

An hour later, on his way to the lab, Grissom was pondering over the idea of getting Brass to issue an APB to find Sara. Similar intermittent and intrusive ideas kept surfacing on and off throughout the night. Perhaps he could trace her cellphone signal. Or start ringing the hotels in the Lake Mead area.

At which point Grissom decided that he needed a distraction. Actually, _another_ distraction. Thomas Carlyle had it right in one of his speeches when he said that 'work is the grand cure of all the maladies and miseries that ever beset mankind'.

Grissom pulled over one of the folders sitting on one corner of his desk and opened it up. Ah, homicide and foul calumny, just the job.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How did it go in court?"

Grissom looked up at Catherine's enquiry. She stood in the doorway of his office waiting for a reply. He didn't need to ask which case she was referring to.

"As you suspected, they tried a few tricks. Fortunately I had the information they thought they needed. It didn't do them any good. The evidence told its own story."

Catherine smiled with true appreciation as she crossed the floor to a chair in front of Grissom's desk. Her eyebrows raised.

"Guilty?"

Grissom's lips pursed with satisfaction.

"As sin."

Catherine looked at him, her head tipped at an angle.

"Do you know, that's the first time I've seen anything even vaguely like a smile out of you this week?"

Grissom raised his eyebrows and his lips flattened out, giving him a rueful expression. He didn't respond to the implied question underneath Catherine's verbal one. He had to follow his own 'leave your personal life at home' policy. He moved a file folder from one side of his desk to the other, and then looked at her. She had no difficulty reading the suspiciously polite enquiry on his face. She handed over the folder that she had been holding when she arrived in the doorway.

"Okay, to work."

Grissom ignored the amusement in Catherine's voice as he opened up the file and started to read. As he lost himself in the results and evidence he was grateful that there was something that could distract him from Sara's absence, for a few moments, at least.

Except that he was still thinking of her.

Twenty minutes later, after discussing the contents of the file, Catherine stood up to go, her mind already on her next task. She subsided back onto the chair when Grissom looked up at her.

"I'm taking some personal time tomorrow, I won't be in."

Catherine stopped her instinctive urge to ask 'why?'. She looked at Grissom. Two could play at 'cool'.

"Fine. If we need to, I'll see if someone from day shift can cover."

She smiled with genuine amusement as she got to her feet and added,

"Oh, and Grissom? Tell Sara I said 'Hi'."

Grissom shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He eventually nodded. No point in telling Catherine that Sara was not at the townhouse.

After Catherine had left the office, Grissom looked at his watch. Nearly five am. There were still a few hours before he finished the shift, even if they didn't get a callout. As he stood up and left his office, Grissom absently noted that he needed to get his desk chair adjusted. If his back ached like it did right now after only an hour or so, something had to need resetting.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara looked at the bedside clock's luminous green numbers and groaned in dismay. Four am. Just because she was used to being awake at this time of night didn't mean that she was thrilled to be woken up unexpectedly.

She turned her head to look out of the bedroom window just in time to see a flash of lightning. It's pink brilliance made her wince and left her retinas with a green afterimage. The loud rumbling bang of thunder followed straight afterwards and she could hear the rain hammering down. It must have been the thunder that woke her.

The weather had been very unsettled since she arrived at the cabin. On the day after her arrival she had gone shopping for fresh groceries and had bought enough for her not to have to shop again this week. It had been a wise decision in light of the conditions outside.

Thoroughly awake now, Sara struggled out of bed and went to stand by the window. In the lightning flashes she caught glimpses of the mountain view. She opened the window just a fraction, immediately smelling the tang of ozone on the fresh damp air. Not for the first time in the last couple of days, Sara wished that Grissom were here with her to enjoy this spectacle. The cabin felt secure enough and she was not afraid of the storm, but she wanted to enjoy it in the company of the man she loved. She had had plenty of time alone to think over the last year and she had finally made peace with herself and most of her demons. She was already packed for the drive home in the morning and that was the only reason that she was dismayed at being awake now. She had a long drive and would have preferred to be well rested before the journey. She sighed, taking in the cool fresh air and exhaling slowly.

Sara had spoken to Grissom daily, assuring him that all was well. Although at the beginning of the week she was ashamed to admit part of her reason for getting away was to tick Grissom off for keeping his recovered memory to himself, she now felt that it had been right to take some time out to get things straight. She would probably never get a proper explanation from Grissom because she didn't think that he knew the reason himself. But coming to the cabin reminded her of being here with him and she kept remembering little things that she had either forgotten or not consciously taken in at the time because there was so much going on.

_And coming off._

Sara watched the grin appear on her reflection's face in the bedroom window. She suddenly felt very far away from Grissom and the comfort that she found in his arms. She turned and looked at the bed, just in time to see it illuminated by the next flash of lightning.

Sara had found more than comfort in Grissom's arms. In retrospect she could see how much he had cherished her, even before he had been able to say it with words. Call it sex, lovemaking, or the horizontal boogie, whatever it was it had been beyond any previous experience. It had been so much more than _sex._ They were so compatible, and no one but Grissom had ever made Sara feel so responsive and so confident in herself as a woman.

Lost in her reverie, Sara nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a tremendous crackle of static electricity raise the hairs on her neck and arms. The accompanying lightning appeared to be directly over the cabin and was followed immediately by a clap of thunder so loud and close that she felt its vibration through the window and her hand.

"Christ, that was close."

Sara closed the window quickly, and the sound of the storm muted a little, but not much. She peered out of the glass to see if there was any sign of where the strike had come to earth. The rain largely obscured the view now, but she couldn't see any obvious sign of fire. She rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms and grabbed her robe, tying the sash as she left the bedroom. She made her way around the cabin, checking for damage from each window. The wind was whipping up organic debris, leaves and such, but she didn't see anything untoward until she entered the kitchen. Unexpected illumination came from an orange glow shining through the half-paned back door. It made her hurry across the room without stopping to switch on the lights.

Sara's breath sucked in as she stared out of the window.

Fire.

She unlocked and opened the door. Leaves and small twigs flew and scrabbled around her feet before settling behind her. The wind tugged at her clothing, lifting the flimsy robe and flapping the sash as if trying to undress her.

The lightning had struck one of the more remote coniferous trees over by the large shed used both for storage and vehicles. The smell of the burning wood and sap reminded her of Christmas, but the scene before her was far removed from a cosy evening in front of the hearth. The tree was well alight and there was little that she could have done about it, even if she hadn't been pregnant.

To Sara's relief there seemed to be little danger of the fire spreading to neighbouring trees as they were well distanced apart and already wet from the rain all week. Even as she watched, the blowing embers falling from the tree were being snuffed out as soon as they hit the wet ground.

Sara had hardly finished the thought when - above the noise of the storm - she heard something that she couldn't immediately identify. A splintering crack of sound that echoed like a gunshot. She looked up. As if in slow motion she watched a flaming bough fall from about halfway up the tree. She looked on in horror as she realised that its projected path straight down could have it land on or near the shed.

Where her car was.

"NoooO!"

Automatically Sara stepped forward and put out a hand as if to try to divert the bough's fall, even though she had to be at least eighty or ninety feet away and was totally incapable of moving something that big. Which also happened to be on fire.

Sara was instantly drenched by the heavy downpour, her robe and pj's no defence at all. The wind whipped her wet hair about her head, sticking strands to her face. The shock of the cold water made her gasp and the mud oozing between her toes brought her to her senses. Boots. She must get boots.

With a loud rustling thud the bough crashed to the ground, narrowly missing the shed roof. Sparks and small pieces of burning wood flew up into the air, whisked into a vortex of hot colour by the wind. Steam and flames squabbled over the fallen limb, each trying to keep the upper hand. It was bizarrely beautiful, almost mesmerising.

Sara shook off her shocked revere and hurried back inside, leaving a trail of muddy footprints. In the time it took her to get in the cabin, grab a waterproof, her car keys and a pair of oversized waterproof boots and get back outside, the rain was beginning to win. Steam hissed and spluttered over the blackened tree. The remaining flames that were being fed by the tree sap were the last to go, finally beaten back.

As the flames died down Sara realised that the light they supplied died too. It became darker with each passing moment as she made her careful way around the shed. She cursed herself for forgetting a flashlight, something she usually carried at all times. Cold, wet and half blind, Sara still managed to check that the fire had not taken hold of anything behind the building. She looked in through its window, but saw no sign of fire.

On balance Sara decided not to move the car, figuring that it was probably safer where it was. She turned back towards the cabin and suddenly realised that the thunder no longer came right on the heels of the lightning; the storm was moving off. Good news. And bad.

"Oh crap!"

The lightning was going with it – naturally - and it was less bright when it did flash. Within a short space of time it was pitch black between the intermittent flashes.

Not a good time to find out that she should have put the kitchen light on before she came out. Neither the main bedroom nor the living room windows faced out on this side of the cabin, so their lights were no use.

Forcing herself not to panic, Sara waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark, keeping them shut with her fingers over them to exclude the last of the lightning. Now that the cuffs of her sleeves were pointing upwards the rain ran down Sara's arms, making her elbows itch, but she ignored it. She counted the seconds between the claps of thunder and had an approximate idea of when to expect the next flash. She counted the next interval, testing the theory and it worked. She opened her eyes and was able to see a little better. Still counting, she made her way in the direction of the cabin, its dark shape marginally blacker than its surrounding.

Sara stopped and covered her eyes when the next flash was due. She waited for the thunder to pass, opened her eyes and resumed counting and walking. In this fashion she made it back to the kitchen door - only stumbling once in the slippery mud - and gratefully staggered into the utility room. The quiet and warmth were a direct contrast to outside and Sara savoured it for a few moments until the chill began to invade her limbs. She removed the waterproof and the boots and scraped her bare feet on the matting by the door, getting the worst of the mud off. There was no way she could bend down there and wipe her feet any other way. Junior saw to that. For the first time since she went out, Sara consciously thought of the baby as she made her wet way through the cabin to the bathroom and the shower. She smoothed her hands over her bump, talking as she walked.

"Hey in there, thanks for not making a fuss while I was busy. You may be wet, but I'll bet you're nice and toasty."

Sara had not removed the robe and pj's before she got to the bathroom. Bare wet flesh would have been even colder than wet clothes. She turned the shower on and waited for the hot water, which only took a few moments. Grabbing her shampoo and gel, Sara entered the cubicle still wearing the clothes and shivering. She stepped straight under the hot spray and rubbed at her arms until they tingled. As soon as she was warmer she peeled off the wet robe and nightwear, dropping them behind her. She savoured the hot water now directly on her skin.

"Jeez, that's good."

Sara washed her hair quickly and finished rinsing off. Outside the cubicle a couple of large warm towels were waiting, and she wrapped herself up in them, feeling immeasurably better.

She made herself a hot drink and took it back to bed with her. Glancing at the bedside clock, Sara was astonished to see that less than an hour had passed since she had woken up. She thought that she had been out for hours.

Sara lay propped up in the middle of the big bed with the quilt wrapped around her and sipped her hot chocolate. She felt warm and cosy, beginning to unwind and relax. She felt optimistic now that the storm had passed. In the morning she would assess the damage wrought, leave Mrs. Weston a note and make her way back to Vegas. No problem.

Sara's back started to ache from being in one position for too long, so she shifted slightly to relieve the pressure, tucking the quilt back in place. She finished her drink and turned to put the mug on the bedside unit. As she leaned over to reach, she felt her belly tighten up. Another Braxton-Hicks, the so-called practice contractions the uterus did in the run up to the real thing. Sara was unconcerned, having had several of them in the last few weeks. They usually passed off easily and if that was as bad as they got, Sara figured labour would be a cinch. A minute or so later, the tense muscles relaxed. The baby shifted, probably in response to the squeezing.

"C'mon, settle down. We need to sleep - "

With a suddenness that surprised Sara, the light went out. She laughed aloud.

"Hey, I could have done it myself y'know!"

The storm had probably hit a power line somewhere down in the valley. Again, Sara wasn't much concerned. The only thing that really required power here was the freezer, and there was only a limited amount of food in it, which would be okay if the chest was kept shut until the power came back. She didn't need to see to sleep.

Sara reached up to switch the light off so that if the power came back on before the morning, she would not be disturbed. She settled back under the quilt cover and despite her achy back, she was asleep within minutes. It was half five in the morning.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You okay?"

Grissom looked up at Nick's enquiry. The younger man was standing by the coffee, having just filled his mug with the last of the potent 'end of shift' brew.

"Fine."

Was he okay? He was not sure. He had a resurgence of his stomach trouble and no amount of indigestion remedy seemed to make a dent in it. Grissom pushed away the plate of half-eaten food, its smell and appearance turning his stomach.

Normally he would have waited until he got home for something to eat, but he had hoped that a little food would have helped to settle the nausea. For some reason he felt edgy and restless.

"You sure? You don't look so good."

Grissom was spared from finding a reply by Catherine's timely arrival in the breakroom.

"Glad to find you both here. Eckle wants a pow-wow. Must be important, he's come in early."

"Oh joy."

Grissom silently agreed with Nick's observation, but pretended he hadn't heard it all the same.

"Now or at shift's end?"

"Quarter after shift's end. Wants the day shift present too."

"Oh man, that sucks. I had plans."

Nick's comment was laced with heavy irony. It was no secret that Eckle usually arranged his meetings to favour the larger day shift, and rarely did anyone on nights make firm plans for immediately after shift, knowing that there was always the possibility that they could still be processing a scene when the shift ended.

Catherine flicked a glance at Nick, but returned her gaze to Grissom.

"Also, Eckle suggests that you might like to get your beeper charged. Apparently he has tried 'a number of times' to get hold of you tonight."

Grissom's expression was innocently bland.

"Twice. Unfortunately on both occasions I was unavoidably detained. I will get back to him."

Catherine's expression barely shifted, but she managed to convey disbelief and amusement at Eckle's expense as she turned to leave.

"Sure. He'll be in his office."

Catherine turned back in the doorway to face Grissom.

"By the way, someone has left a couple of messages for you, asking you to get back to her as a matter of urgency. She sounded very keen to speak to you. I told her that you were out and to page you, but I presume she hasn't…?"

"Does she have a name?"

"A Mrs. Weston. She left a number."

Grissom was surprised to hear that she was trying to reach him. This time of year she usually visited her married daughter and grandkids in Reno.

"Okay, I'll get back to her after the shift."

Catherine looked doubtful.

"You sure? She sounded kind of worried."

Grissom shook his head, it was probably just something about the cabin. Weather this time of year always took a few tiles off and Mrs. Weston always sounded like the cabin had lost the whole roof. It was probably nothing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eckle looked at the assembled staff from the various departments and waited for the chit-chat to die down. It didn't. Forty-two people created a fair hubbub, and the break room was packed.

"Okay people, settle down."

It took several moments, but eventually everyone was quiet. Eckle cleared his throat and started talking.

Twenty minutes later, Eckle had turned over to page four of his 'notes' and the assembled group was getting restless. Any kind of a break would be really _really_ nice.

Their prayers were answered.

Grissom's beeper went off. He looked down at the small screen, unconcerned about being the focus of all eyes, most of which were actually showing gratitude for the interruption.

Catherine and Warrick looked at each other with a 'what's up', Nicky and Greg both looked at Grissom.

It was Brass' office extension number. Frowning, Grissom cancelled the message. What could Brass want…? He must be aware they were all in this meeting.

"May I continue…?"

Eckle's sarcasm appeared to drip ice, but Grissom took his words at face value.

"Yes."

Two minutes later Brass could be seen hurrying up the corridor, the fast moving figure visible through the glass walls. Grissom could see the Captain searching the crowd, obviously looking for someone specific.

Their eyes locked. Grissom felt a cold hand squeeze around his heart.

_Sara._

Eckle was still attempting to continue his delivery despite his audience's obvious distraction. Grissom made his way to the door, the people parting in front of him as if he were Moses at the seaside.

The two men met up. Grissom forced himself not to jump to conclusions.

"Problem?"

Brass nodded, finding it difficult not to notice that virtually all the department staff were looking at the two of them. He chose his words carefully.

"Mrs. Weston. You have an unexpected houseguest, who…"

Brass leaned forward and spoke very quietly. Grissom pulled back and sharply demanded,

"Where is she now?"

Brass leaned forward again. Grissom quickly thanked Brass and moved to step past him, heading for the door. Eckle was furious.

"Grissom! I'm not finished yet, come back here!"

Grissom stopped in the doorway, Brass at his side, and turned back towards Eckle.

"Mr Assistant Director, I apologise for the interruption, but I don't think there is anything in the rulebook about forcing a man to stay at a health and safety pep rally when his wife has just been involved in a car accident."

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Trademarked product, borrowed for wacky hi-jinx to ensue.

Title: Last Chance, chapter 22

Author: hazeleyes57

Rating: R

A/N: This chapter begins a few short hours prior to the end of the last chapter. Grissom is still at work and Sara is still at the cabin in the mountains. It is still raining.

**Last Chance Chapter 22**

To the casual observer the mound on the large bed was just some piled-up linen and a haphazardly jumbled quilt. A more thorough observer would note, however, that the pile moved occasionally. Not much, and not far, but just enough to indicate the presence of life.

A pale hand snaked out from the depths of the covers. The nails were trimmed short and unvarnished, but the hand was obviously female. It moved a short distance and the fingers – long, slim pianists' fingers – disappeared under a dishevelled curtain of dark wavy hair. A muffled groan could be heard.

"Jeez, what's with the heating?"

Sara's nose was cold. She rubbed it with her warm hands. It wasn't working quickly enough so she ducked her face under the quilt and rubbed at her nose some more. When it was sufficiently rescued from imminent hypothermia she stuck her head out long enough to find out the time. It still felt quite early, but it was difficult to tell with such an overcast sky.

The bedside alarm clock was off, still showing a blank where the time should be. Obviously the power was not yet back on, so, ergo, the heating was also off. Having worked it out to her satisfaction, Sara withdrew back under the quilt. She was warmly cocooned and reluctant to stir from the bed. Keen as she undoubtedly was to get back to Grissom, it was hard to get out of bed when you were this warm and comfortable. She sighed and closed her eyes. Just a little bit longer wouldn't hurt.

Twenty minutes later Sara became very aware of the fact that she now _needed_ to get up. The demands of her bladder overrode her desire to stay in bed, so she reluctantly slid her feet to the floor and manoeuvred herself up and off the bed. She shuffled off to the bathroom, absently yawning as she tied Grissom's robe around her. The towelling material held the residual smell of cinnamon and Sara smirked when she fondly recalled just how it got there. Damn, but that man was sex on legs.

Sara returned to the bedroom and picked up her watch, checking the time without thought. She gave a double take.

"Holy crap."

Sara had slept a lot less than she had thought. It was only a little after seven am. but she felt wide-awake. She put it down to all the years that she had worked the night shift.

She decided to get washed and dressed first, then have a light breakfast. She didn't want to be drowsy on the drive.

There was sufficient hot water in the tank to allow her to have a wash, and the lack of electricity didn't stop her from using the bottled gas to boil water for a hot drink.

By seven thirty Sara was almost ready to go. She had left a note for Mrs. Weston about the storm damage, collected her wet clothes in a plastic bag to take back with her and tidied up the mess inside the cabin from the previous night. She did try to ring Mrs. Weston's number, but it came up with the disconnected ring tone. More weather damage, probably.

Sara slipped and slithered her way across to the shed in her parka and the borrowed boots. The ground was waterlogged in several places. She discovered almost immediately that some of the fallen tree debris and burnt branches were preventing one of the shed doors from opening wide enough to get the car out. She tested the weight of a couple of the tree's smaller branches and moved them to one side. She kicked aside a few of the smaller bits, and bent to the last and biggest branch remaining. It required a little more effort to move it, but with some huffing and puffing that left her momentarily dizzy, Sara was finally clear to get the car out. She put some old papers down in the footwell in an effort to prevent too much mud being transferred to the car mats, then drove the car forward and out of the shed for a few yards before getting out to go back and close the shed doors. It was starting to rain again.

After she had securely locked up the house and shed Sara did not linger having a last look around. She was warm from her efforts to get her car out, and the Braxton Hicks' were making her feel uncomfortable. She felt compelled to get going, to get to her husband as soon as possible.

Sara pressed on the gas pedal with caution and eased the car on to the track leading down to the main road. Her hands shook on the wheel and she frowned. The last time she had felt this nervy and wired was…actually, she couldn't think of any time that she had felt this wired. It was worse than a caffeine high.

Sara tried to tell herself that this was just excitement and that she was just looking forward to seeing Grissom again. The baby rolled suddenly and kicked her under her ribs. She winced.

"Hey, quiet down in there, Momma's tryna concentrate."

Sara briefly glanced out of the side window at the view across the mountain. To its former description of 'magnificent', it now had earned 'forbidding'.

Sara's gaze snapped forward when she felt the car slip in the mud momentarily. She eased off the gas until the car was back under control, then resumed her downward course. For the next mile or so it was not a steep drop from the track, but she didn't fancy the idea of going off it either. She silently vowed to pay more attention to the muddy water occasionally to be found running across the track from further up the mountain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Twenty minutes after Sara left the cabin Mrs Weston was surprised to see an unfamiliar car coming down the track from Mr Grissom's property. She frowned as she stopped at her kitchen window and watched the car disappear down the road. She was sure that there was no one supposed to be up at the house, Mr Grissom never came up to the cabin at this time of year; the weather was not so good and he knew that she usually went away.

Mrs. Weston tutted as she dried her rubber gloves and took them off. The dishes could wait. She looked up her employer's Vegas number and picked up her telephone. She hung up again in irritation when she realised that the line was still dead. She reached for her cell phone and tapped out the numbers.

Miles away in Las Vegas, Grissom's house telephone began to ring. After precisely fifteen rings, the ansaphone cut in and Mrs Weston tutted again. She hated answering machines with a passion; they made her feel flustered. She usually required forewarning that she would need to leave a message.

She hung up, leaving no message, then telephoned Grissom's work number.

It was the first of three messages that would be left, each requesting that he ring her back. Mrs Weston left her cellphone number with them too, explaining about the downed lines. She just needed confirmation that Mr Grissom had indeed allowed someone to stay up at the cabin.

Or official notification that she needed to call the police.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara used one hand to try to slacken the seatbelt from around her bump. It felt too tight and uncomfortable. It shifted slightly, which helped a little, but she still felt too confined. The belt seemed to be stuck somewhere. She tugged on it again, but this time it tightened instead.

"Crap."

Sara glanced down at the belt and gently pulled at it with one hand to release the tension. It moved freely and the belt loosened. Sara smiled in satisfaction and looked up, just in time to see a blur of brown fly across the road in front of her. It was some kind of small animal, maybe a cat or something. Whatever it was, it made Sara jump and she instinctively stamped on the brakes, even though the creature had already made it across the road.

Her purse flew off the front seat to land in the front footwell and her case on the seat behind her bumped into the back of the driver's seat. This Sara took in and instantly ignored. The sole focus of her attention was the fact that there was no longer any traction with the road. After the initial resistance of the brakes, her tires had locked and the car was now skidding in the mud.

Sara hurriedly took her foot off the brakes to release the wheels and try to regain the road, but it was too late. She felt the back end of the car fishtail off to the right, towards the edge of the track. She braked again, hard, in the hope of stopping the car going over the edge.

It didn't work.

In a curiously slow quiet motion, the car slid and then bumped over the edge of the track, its back end going first.

Sara found herself pushed back into her seat, now securely held by her troublesome seatbelt, as her car slid backwards down the rocky incline. Suddenly it was very noisy in the car as it bumped and rumbled down the hillside. Sara stomped both feet on the brakes and tightly gripped the wheel. Her terror was real and visceral. She was unable to see where she was going and any moment she expected to hit something.

She hoped.

Anything to stop her being launched into mid air when she ran out of mountainside.

They say that your life flashes before you in moments such as this, but Sara didn't seem to have the time for it. She was too busy being tossed around like lettuce for a salad. She wanted to let go of the wheel to guard her baby, but she couldn't seem to get her hands to unlock.

It seemed to go on forever, but the bouncing and banging gradually smoothed out and Sara realised that the brakes were beginning to bite as she remembered to pump and release the pedal. She felt a bubble of hope.

Which burst a second later when the car gave a huge jolt and bounced upwards before crashing down and coming to an abrupt halt.

Sara was shoved unmercifully into the driver's seat and pain shot along her back and around her belly. She lay unmoving in the seat for long moments, stunned into immobility. She stared out of the unbroken windshield up to a steel grey sky. She couldn't believe that she was still conscious. Hell, she couldn't believe that she was still alive. She looked down at herself and saw that her hands had made it around her abdomen at some point. She prayed hard that the baby was okay.

The engine had stalled as soon as Sara's foot left the clutch pedal and the silence wrapped itself around her like a cloak.

Sara felt curiously detached from the whole event. Almost as if it were happening to someone else. She was oddly clear about what needed to be done and how to go about it. She needed to get out of the car, get her purse, and her cases.

Especially the hospital one. The one for the baby. Then she had to walk up to the road track. And find her husband. Grissom. She had to find Grissom. Suddenly that was the only thing that she needed to achieve.

Sara took stock. The car was lying at a steep angle, its rear end in what looked like a ditch of some sort. There was no chance of driving the car out. The front wheels were clear of the ground. She struggled to reach around herself and release her belt. She ached everywhere, but she did not appear to be injured or bleeding, apart from odd scrapes and cuts.

It took Sara ten minutes and some considerable pain to manoeuvre her way out of the car, but eventually she was standing beside the vehicle. She reached back in for her purse, which was now on the back seat, its contents strewn everywhere. She picked up what she could find, her money and cards, a pen or two and some other bits and pieces.

Sara managed to get the small case from the back seat, but she didn't even try for the one in the trunk. It was too heavy to lugg all the way back to the road anyway. Once she had her bearings, Sara set out for the track at the top of the slope, her pace slow and steady.

Sara had to stop and rest for a moment as another Braxton-Hicks arrived, this one lasting a couple of minutes. There was some other pain in her back, probably a bruised muscle or ten, and she felt battered all over. As if to reassure her, the baby moved against her palm and Sara felt overwhelming relief.

Her eyes started to well up and she had the desperate urge to cry. She refused to give in to it, afraid that if she started she would collapse completely. A couple of dry sobs escaped before she could stop them.

"No! No crying. Don't be a wuss. Get your ass in gear Sidle, get a move on. What would Grissom think?"

She looked at her surroundings, particularly the way that she had just come, taking in the muddy gouges and damage that indicated her path from the track road to her present location. She had been exceptionally lucky to have avoided hitting anything big before coming to rest in the ditch.

Sara picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder by its strap. She searched through the contents that she had retrieved, not recalling having seen her cell phone among the motley collection. Her search became a little more frantic when it became evident that her cell was missing. She dumped the purse's contents on the ground and had one last look.

"Fuckit! Just my frigging luck. I'd be just fine if I could call for help on my lipstick."

Sara picked up the strewn purse contents and shoved them back in place. She resolutely picked up her case and turned towards the track, which looked a hell of a lot further away than it had previously seemed. She looked at her watch. Seven forty. Well, she wasn't going back down to the car, so she had better get going. She wondered what Grissom was doing. Out on a call? Or finishing off some of his paperwork? Either way she would have been eternally grateful to have him turn up right now with that knowing little smirk of his.

The incline was sufficiently steep that Sara had to keep stopping every now and then to catch her breath. She also had to stop more than once for the Braxton-Hicks' to pass. Her shock and exhaustion were making them seem harder to cope with. Her under-the-breath-mantra was 'just a few more steps, just a few more'.

Half way up she didn't have the breath for that, either. She stopped for a breather, and looked at her watch again. Eight am. She frowned and looked back the way she had come and then up to the rest of her journey. Twenty minutes for that? Jeez, she was out of condition.

Sara tiredly straightened up and collected the case again. She started making bargains with herself.

"If I go twenty paces without stopping I shall have a bar of candy. If I go thirty, I'll have…two bars."

Sara frowned as she struggled uphill. She was so busy trying to figure out what to reward herself with at the next stage that she didn't pay sufficient attention to her footing. She stepped awkwardly on an uneven piece of stone.

And suddenly found herself pitched forward through the air.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mrs. Weston checked her cell phone for messages for the half-a-dozenth time in ten minutes. There was nothing. She checked the land line telephone. It – like the power supply – was still off.

She was not a superstitious woman, nor one given to what she would call fanciful notions, but she found herself unable to settle. Both of her cats had been staying close since the storm last night, and Rocky, mad dog that he was, wouldn't come out from under the big bed upstairs.

Mrs. Weston went to the bottom of the stairs. Her husband had not left yet for work.

"Jim, I'm going out in the pick-up, I'll be back before you need to leave! If Mr Grissom calls ask him to call my cell, it's urgent."

She heard a distant acknowledgement and hurriedly collected her coat, cell phone and the keys to both the truck and the house. As a last minute thought she called Rocky down by jangling the keys to the truck. He was a sucker for a ride out. Within moments the black lab came trotting down the stairs, his tongue lolling. She had no idea what she expected to find, but she just had to do something.

Minutes later she and Rocky were off down the road. She drove slowly, aware how treacherous the road could be when the rains turned the earth to mud.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

08:15 Las Vegas

Grissom frowned at his watch. As the graveyard shift Supervisor he had to set an example. This morning's example would be to attend a 'Health and Safety' briefing by the Assistant Director, Conrad Eckle.

Joy.

Grissom got to his feet, and stretched his back into a more comfortable position. He locked his desk drawers and filing cabinet, then placed his jacket on his briefcase. As soon as the meeting was over he was going home to get washed, fed (his stomach roiled at the thought) and changed, then he was going to call Sara and tell her that he was coming to get her, ready or not. As he moved his jacket, Grissom disturbed the note Catherine had given him about Mrs Weston's call. He looked at the telephone number and didn't recognise it. He glanced again at his watch, trying to decide if he had time to call now.

He picked up the handset and started to tap out the number, just as his office door opened after a peremptory knock. Catherine stuck her head in.

"Coming?"

Grissom nodded, but continued to dial. He listened for several moments, then pressed the button to disconnect.

"No answer?"

Grissom looked up at Catherine and nodded.

"Mnmnn. I'll try again later. Probably nothing, like I said."

Grissom absently tucked the note in his pants pocket and followed Catherine out of his office, closing the door behind him.

He wondered what Sara was doing this morning. If she had any sense she would be relaxing in her hotel room, resting with her feet up. If she wasn't still asleep, of course.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

08:15

Sara's arms flew out and she automatically dropped the case as she fell forward. She crashed to her knees and hands, but managed to keep from falling flat. Her purse swung off her shoulder and thudded to the ground beside her left hand.

Sara didn't move for several moments, partly through shocked surprise, partly because she was too busy cursing. She swore up one side and down the other. She berated herself for the monumentally stupid idea of coming out here on her own, and even reserved a small curse for Grissom for letting her come out alone. The minor fact that he did attempt to dissuade her was conveniently forgotten. She was too Goddam mad.

Eventually the pain in her hands forced Sara to lean back on her legs and examine the new grazes on the heel of both hands. She was fortunate not to have broken the skin sufficiently enough to bleed, but it was still unpleasant. She rubbed her hands on her maternity pants before the numbness of impact wore off. Despite the stinging pain, she then checked her stomach, willing the baby to move and let her know that he or she was okay.

Sara looked up to the road. It still looked so far away. Her shoulders slumped in dismay.

"Crap. I hope you're happy Grissom, you're right as usual."

Sara picked herself up, getting to her feet by leaning on the dropped case. She brushed her pants off, and squared her shoulders.

"One step, then another. I am in my happy place…"

She bent to collect the small case and straightened for the walk. The baby shifted and Sara smiled with relief. Her happy place was suddenly a lot happier.

"…where I am ordering truckloads of candy. Truckloads. Big frigging truckloads."

Thus organised, Sara put one foot in front of the other, taking great care as to where she placed them.

"I need a distraction. Something else to think about."

Sara recalled a game for tedious car journeys when she was a child. She would work through the alphabet with a particular subject, like girls' names or boys' names or whatever. Once it was the names of towns. She thought for a while. It had to be reasonably difficult.

"Spices and Herbs. Yeah. Allspice. Basil. Cinnamon. Mmn. Cinnamon, now there's a tale."

Sara grinned briefly. She was definitely distracted. Distracted right back to the kitchen at the cabin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mrs. Weston kept a good eye on the track in front of her, but also peered up ahead to see if she could spot the car that she had seen earlier. When she rounded the last bend before a half-mile long straight and saw no other vehicle ahead, she was baffled. She stopped the car, absently petting Rocky as she looked around.

"Come on Rocky, let's go home. We'll talk to Mr Grissom and see what's up."

She turned the car around and headed back. Less than two minutes later Rocky suddenly stood up on all fours in the car seat and started barking furiously.

"What is it boy? What have you seen?"

Mrs. Weston stopped the pick-up and pulled on the parking brake. She left the engine running, just in case she required a fast escape. She got out of the vehicle and walked over to the edge of the track, in the direction of the dog's frantic attention.

"Oh my Lord!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

08:35 Las Vegas

Grissom hurried up the corridor with Jim Brass at his side. He was furiously angry and terribly afraid; never a good combination. Entering his office, Grissom turned to Brass.

"When did you get the last call?"

Brass looked at his watch while he calculated.

"Less than ten minutes ago."

He looked at Grissom with a shrewd eye.

"I take it that you didn't know she was there?"

Grissom just looked at Brass and the detective had no trouble interpreting the look to mean 'you think I would have let her go that far on her own?'

Brass answered his own question.

"Of course not."

Grissom already had his cell out and was fishing in his pocket for the post-it with Mrs. Weston's number.

He dialled the number and it started ringing…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back in the meeting Ecklie knew that he had lost the attention of the room. Grissom's parting shot had seen to that. Damn the man. The Assistant Director continued on with an abridged version of the last item anyway, but he kept it short.

Greg turned to Nick, shocked concern written all over him. His voice was quiet.

"Do you think Sara's okay? I mean, it's not like he said 'dead' or 'dying', right?"

Nick didn't bother to point out that Greg had made the assumption that Grissom was talking about Sara. They both knew that Grissom wouldn't have married anyone else.

"Let's not borrow trouble. I'm sure Gris will tell us when he can."

On the other side of the room, Catherine turned a surprised face to Warrick, forgetting herself in her shock and laying a hand on his arm.

"Did Gil say 'wife'?"

Warrick nodded in confirmation. He placed his hand over Catherine's, trying to give her some support. She went whiter still, her eyes wide.

"Dear God, then Brass must mean _Sara's_ been in an accident."

Her voice was a horrified whisper but Warrick heard her perfectly. He looked up to the front of the room and noted that Ecklie was winding up at long last.

"Let's get out of here."

Warrick led the way through the bodies, collecting Nick and Greg on the way, and the four of them headed with alacrity for Grissom's office.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara abruptly stopped still, her ears straining. She thought that she had heard a vehicle a few minutes back, but as she couldn't see the track from where she was, so they wouldn't be able to see her. Now she thought that she could hear a dog barking. Her head came up and the first thing she saw was the wondrous sight of a light blue pick-up, which, thank God, had stopped. It was only then that Sara saw the woman looking at her and waving. Sara felt weak with relief, then energised enough to try to hurry over the remaining distance.

Mrs Weston turned off the truck's engine and returned to the edge of the track. She started down the steep hill, unable to just stand and watch the dark-haired woman struggle alone. She wondered what on earth it was in the case that was so important that it could not be left behind.

They both recognised each other at the same time.

"Mrs Grissom! What the h – why didn't you tell me that you were at the cabin?"

Sara was close to tears of relief, but she held on to them. She was breathless and overheated.

"Mrs. Weston." Sara sucked in some air. " Good to see you."

Now that she was closer, Gina Weston could see that Sara was not overweight, as she had thought, but very pregnant. She took Sara's case from her unresisting fingers and turned to guide the younger woman back up the incline.

"Don't go mad now, you take your time. You're okay, let's keep it that way, mmm?"

Sara nodded, omitting to inform Grissom's housekeeper that she was having another Braxton-Hicks.

The two women made their way slowly back up to the track, where they were greeted by the now-frantic barking of the dog. Sara hesitated before approaching the pick-up. Gina noticed and turned to Rocky.

"Hush now, you silly dog, it's Mrs. Grissom."

Sara had the absurd urge to laugh at the formal introduction. She shook her head at the older woman.

"Sara. Please, call me Sara."

Gina Weston was prepared to agree to anything at this point, just to get Sara in the truck and get her to the Doctor in town.

"Surely, and I'm Gina. Now why don't you get in and I'll move Rocky."

Rocky and the case went on the back seats of the four-cab, while Sara managed to get into the front passenger seat.

"Please, can I use your cell? I lost mine and I need to call Gr - Gill."

"Yes, surely. I'm waiting for him to come back to me anyway; I have been leaving messages all over for Mr Grissom. I thought that he had burglars."

Sara puzzled her way through the sentence, tiredly realising that Mrs Weston was referring to her presence at the cabin. She could not be bothered to explain the whole messages thing, so she just smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, my fault."

Mrs. Weston dismissed Sara's concern and told her not to worry as she handed her the cellphone.

Sara checked the time on the cell then dialled the townhouse. After several moments, Sara disconnected the call before the machine picked up. She dialled Grissom's cell.

It was off, to her surprise.

"I'll need to try again, he must be driving or something."

"No problem."

Gina Weston turned the pick-up around at the next opportunity and headed back into town. Sara wondered why they weren't going back up the mountain road. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Rocky, now quieter, leaned his head through between the front seats. He appeared to be grinning at the two women as he panted, resting from his labours. Sara couldn't help but smile at the animal.

Gina glanced at her passenger.

"I'm taking you to the town doctor, get him to check you're both alright after the accident."

Sara didn't demur, she thought that it was only sensible. It was just that she desperately wanted to be with Grissom instead. She sighed inwardly, a captive of her own stupidity.

"Sure, okay."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grissom closed his cell phone and looked at Brass.

"No answer on either Sara or Mrs Weston's cell phone, and the land line is down."

Brass had never seen such a look of frustration on his friend's face before. Even when Grissom did not know the answer to some thorny forensic question, he always knew the path to take to get it. This was something out of his control.

"There's probably a very good reason for all that. What we need to do now is - "

Grissom abruptly turned back to the door of his office, his action unintentionally cutting Brass off. It was the action of a man who had to _move_ to channel his anger without striking something or someone.

Grissom looked up and was not surprised to see that Catherine, Warrick, Greg and Nick had followed them from the breakroom. Nick held back, speaking softly on his own cell phone.

Grissom looked at them but spoke to Brass.

"What _I_ need to do is to get to Sara. It's several hours by car; I can be there - "

"No. You can't drive for that long after working all night, it's suicide."

It was Grissom's turn to be cut off, but the source surprised him. His voice was carefully controlled.

"What?"

Catherine stepped forward, closer than the rest.

"Greg's right Gill, you would be a danger to yourself and others. There has to be another way."

Brass interjected.

"LVPD's finest could get you up there a damn sight quicker."

Before Grissom could answer, Nick moved forward through the group. He was smiling in that near-smirk way that said 'result!'

"Brass is right, Grissom, and I know just the lieutenant to do it. Can you be ready in ten minutes?"

Brass and Grissom both turned to him. Grissom shrugged. He picked up his jacket and looked at Nick.

"I'm ready now."

Nick grinned despite the seriousness of Sara and Grissom's plight.

"But we're not, not for ten minutes. Do you need money, or food or water, or whatever? Because now is the time to get it."

Grissom saw the wisdom of his words, but he couldn't face food right now. The water was a good idea though. He nodded in acknowledgement, heading again for the door.

His entourage followed.

In other circumstances it would have been funny.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gina Weston looked up from the magazine she was half-heartedly trying to read when the door to her doctor's consulting room opened. Sara emerged looking a little flushed, but otherwise appeared to be okay. Gina did not press her for details. Sara settled the paperwork and the two women emerged into the sunshine less than fifteen minutes later.

"While you were in there I managed to get through to a Detective Brass, who said that he'll get hold of Mr Grissom. Something about a meeting. Anyway, he said that he'd get back to us. I didn't give him any big message, just that you'd had a small set to with the car and would be at my place shortly. Then the receptionist made me turn off my cell."

Sara looked glum.

"Mine's still in the car. Grissom will be mad I'm not picking up."

"Oh, hush now. He knows – or will know – that you are well enough to be at my place. He'll try again."

The two women made their way back to the pick-up and Rocky. Sara was unusually quiet on the journey back, but Gina Weston didn't know her well enough to have realised this fact.

Sara was feeling guilty and worried. Guilty that she had probably misled the doctor by not mentioning the Braxton Hicks, and worried about getting back to Vegas. Her car had to be recovered and repaired if possible. Sara was not, by nature, a person who made a decision and then complained when things didn't turn out as expected. But under the circumstances she conceded to herself that perhaps this last week was not such a sterling idea and if she could have had her moments of contemplative insight back in Vegas it would have saved everyone a lot of hassle.

Twenty-twenty hindsight, always useful.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The ten minutes were up and, at Nick's prompting, they headed out of the building for the parking lot. The early morning sun was bright already and it promised to be hot later. No one even gave a thought to getting in his or her car to leave for home.

Half expecting some kind of fast response vehicle, Grissom looked around, then turned to speak to Nick. He and Greg were looking at the bright blue cloudless sky, both wearing sunglasses. Nick looked like a chisel-jawed advert for police recruitment, while Greg looked like someone who had got lost coming home from an all night party.

Catherine was on her cell, calling Lindsey to let her know that she wasn't going to be able to make it home before she left for school. After speaking to her daughter, she was briefly explaining the situation to her mother when she was almost drowned out by a 'thwacker thwacker' racket overhead. Catherine hurriedly finished her call and closed the cell. She looked across the car lot with a grin, then shouted to Warrick, only two feet away from her.

"Trust Nicky to come up with this sort of thing!"

Warrick nodded, ducking to avoid the flying dust stirred up by the LVMPD helicopter.

Grissom shook his head in disbelief, but he looked at Nick with gratitude. They rest of the group held back, but the two of them crossed the car lot, keeping their heads low under the swish of fast-idling rotor blades.

The door of the helicopter opened, and a man in a flight suit leaned out. Nick reached the chopper first and shook hands with the co-pilot in greeting. It was obvious that they knew each other well. Grissom was introduced and also shook hands. He could just make out what was being said.

"We have to hurry Sir, we only have a five minute window."

Grissom nodded and turned to Nick. He had to shout above the helicopter's engine.

"How!"

Nick grinned.

"You're always saying it's 'what' you know, but sometimes it's really 'who' you know!"

Grissom looked suitably puzzled until Nick pointed to the pilot. The co-pilot must have said something by helmet microphone, because the pilot turned at that moment and gave them a smile. Despite the flight helmet and the aviator sunglasses, it didn't require a detective to figure out that male pilots rarely wore that shade of lipgloss.

At least not while on duty.

Grissom clambered awkwardly into one of the back seats and turned back to Nick, who remained on the ground. Grissom didn't know what to say that was going to be even halfway adequate.

"Thank you doesn't cover it."

Nick waved it away, a bashful smile on his face. After securely closing the door he ducked slightly and backed up, giving the co-pilot the all clear.

In the seat in front of Grissom the pilot brought the rotors up to full speed and radioed air traffic control to notify them that they were beginning the first leg of their flight plan. Grissom hurriedly strapped himself in. He was handed a set of headphones and by the time he had put them on they were in the air. He barely had time to look out of the window before the ground was too far away to see anyone clearly.

Once they were clear of the buildings the helicopter turned and headed north. Grissom looked at his watch. It was eight forty eight. He wondered what time they would arrive; right on top of that thought he wondered _where_ they would arrive. He leaned forward to tap the co pilot on the shoulder, then started with surprise when he heard a woman's voice in his ears.

"Nice to finally meet you Mr Grissom. I'm Lieutenant Larisa Martinez. Call me Larisa. I've heard a lot about you from Nicky. The comm. system is voice activated by the way, so just speak normally."

"Thank you, Larisa. Not all bad I hope."

Grissom could hear the smile in the woman's voice as she answered.

"Not too shabby. And congratulations on your marriage, by the way. Nicky says it's about time." The pilot's voice became businesslike. "We're going to take you to Warm Springs. We will be heading north towards Ely, then turn east before we get to the Humboldt Toiyabe National Forest. We can't fly directly to your destination due to the restricted airspace around Nellis."

Still surprised about Nick's personal comment, Grissom just nodded, even though he couldn't be seen. Obviously even police helicopters had to obey the rules around the Air Force complex.

"When will we arrive?"

"ETA is about an hour, give or take. The local sheriff is a friend of my Captain and he's agreed to contact your Mrs. Weston, explain what we're going to do, and meet us with your wife at the landing zone."

"Is that allowed?"

The pilot nodded out of habit and her voice was heard again.

"Yessir, we filed a flight plan and got approval. We're good to go. One thing I must ask is that you don't use your cell while we are in the air. Apart from that, you try to relax if you can, we'll be there before you know it."

Grissom subsided in his seat, and frowned. He had hoped that he could try calling Mrs. Weston again, but obviously not. He would have to drag up some of the deep reserves of his patience to cope with his powerlessness in this situation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mr Grissom will be here before you know it, you'll see." Gina Weston paused to invite Sara into her home, showing her in to the large family kitchen. She placed Sara's bag beside the table. "I don't know what he was thinking though, letting you come all the way out here by yourself."

Sara knew that Mrs Weston meant well, but she wasn't in her most appreciative mood. She pulled out a chair at the table and carefully sat down, while her hostess busied herself with making coffee, pointing out that it was decaff because of her husband's blood pressure.

Sara tried to appear interested out of politeness sake, but she quickly realised that Grissom's housekeeper was content to chat on without much feedback, so she let it wash over her as she sipped her coffee.

"…here I am going on, and you here looking exhausted. Would you like to go and have a rest? It will be a while before we hear about your car."

Sara zoned in just in time to offer an adequate response. She gave a small smile.

"I'd really like to wash up?"

Mrs Weston looked apologetic and hurried over to the kitchen doorway, beckoning Sara on like traffic.

"Of course, I'm sorry I didn't think to offer. I'll show you were everything is."

Sara followed, her pace more sedate. Her collection of bumps and bruises were beginning to ache and she really _really_ needed to use the facilities.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara was woken up by the sound of a telephone ringing somewhere in the house. She was surprised on two counts; one, that she had fallen asleep at all, and two, she had understood that the telephone lines were down. Obviously not any longer. She struggled to sit up and slid her feet to the floor of Mrs Weston's spare bedroom. Sara rubbed her face with both hands, trying to gather her thoughts from the depths of sleep. She made her way downstairs a few minutes later, just in time to see Gina Weston turn from the telephone.

"Ah, there you are. That was Ned from the garage. The car is repairable, but won't be done until next week at the earliest. He knows that you need to get going back to Vegas, so he has made a provisional car rental for you in town."

Sara looked mildly sceptical. Perhaps Ned got kickbacks from the rental guys. She hadn't realised how transparent she had looked until Mrs Weston continued.

"We only have the one car rental agency here, so he wanted to get in before you lost out altogether."

Sara had the grace to look apologetic.

"Okay, and thanks. Tell Ned I appreciate it."

"This is a small town, you'll be able to tell him yourself when we collect the things from your car. He said to tell you he found your cellphone too and it's still working because it's gone off a couple of times." She grinned, "He's dying with curiosity, poor man."

Mrs. Weston went upstairs to find the elusive Jim Weston and tell him that she was taking Sara to Ned's.

While she was away, Sara felt the telltale sign of another Braxton Hicks contraction. Her belly tightened up, beginning at the bottom and travelling up to the top of the bump, until it was a solid tense piece of muscle. It was very unpleasant and made her shift around to try to get comfortable again. Sara was very grateful when it finally eased off and her belly relaxed again. She blew out air and rubbed her stomach. They were definitely getting worse. She wasn't sure that she was going to enjoy a couple of weeks of these before the real thing got started.

"Are you okay?"

Sara jumped in surprise. She had been so busy breathing that she didn't hear Gina's return.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, just the baby kicking around a little. It's fine."

"You sure? You looked very red there for a moment."

Sara gave a large and not particularly convincing grin.

"Sure, it's fine. Baby's awake."

Gina Weston was deprived of the opportunity to debate the issue by the telephone. It was the Sheriff's department. The Sheriff explained about the rendezvous with the incoming police helicopter, and Grissom's presence. Mrs Weston updated them on the car situation and they talked some more. Finally Gina Weston hung up the telephone. She turned to Sara, looking very happy.

"Good news! It's a load off my mind I can tell you. I was really worried about you, the baby and that long drive home."

Sara looked a little baffled. Mrs Weston explained further.

"Your husband has come to his senses and he's actually flying up here to get you. Isn't that lovely? He must be scared out of his wits, poor man."

Sara's heart skipped a little with a combination of excitement and panic. She had no problem flying herself, but she didn't think that it would be a good idea in her current condition. Even airlines had rules about that.

"So we're going to drive back…?"

Mrs Weston nodded.

"The Sheriff will come with you to show you where the helicopter is going to land and make sure that you meet up okay, then you and Mr Grissom can drive home - back in time for dinner I should think. Quite romantic, don't you think?"

Clearly this was working for Mrs Weston, so Sara smiled in agreement, unwilling to burst her bubble.

The drive home could be interesting. Would Grissom be mad at her? Probably. Hopefully not for long. A few hours in the car with stony silence, or with dry ice fury? Neither with any luck. She would apologise in a dignified way, and admit that she may have made a mistake about coming up to the cabin. Grissom would look at her as if she were insane, a look she was quite familiar with, and then she would probably have to grovel a little, then admit that she was a nut job. Great.

Sara sighed. Or at least tried to. Even less room now.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grissom looked at his watch again. Despite the sound advice to rest, he had spent the whole journey thinking about Sara. Sara, the baby, work, life, the universe and everything. Forty-two, the answer to everything. Grissom huffed without much humour. Mr Adams had a lot to answer for. If only it were that simple.

He had let the cat out of the bag well and truly at work. Had announced to virtually the whole department that his _wife_ had been in an accident. It wouldn't take a huge leap for them to figure out who he was married to. Well, he didn't care. Still cared a great deal about the work, just hadn't cared what _they_ thought at work for a long time. Play the political game, Catherine had told him on more than one occasion.

Grissom was tired of playing games. He wanted order back in his life; he wanted things back the way they had been at the cabin. He knew that things would be different with the baby's arrival, it was to be expected, but it was not impossible that he and Sara could regain the real sense of intimacy that had made their time together so special. In the last weeks before the birth he would spend time knocking down the wall between the two of them and rebuilding the rapport between them instead.

The bag that Grissom had brought with him from the lab was still between his feet. He picked it up and opened it, delving into one of its inside pockets. He took out the small ring box and checked that the ring was still safe.

Happy, sad or angry, well, ill or in the throes of ecstasy, Sara was in his future. He couldn't imagine it without her. Didn't want to.

It was time to put his cards on the table.

"Five minutes, Mr Grissom."

"Thanks."

Grissom repacked the ring and closed the bag. Those who knew him reasonably well would have recognised the set to his jaw.

As they say in Vegas…

_Showtime!_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara looked up, shielding her eyes from most of the searingly blue sky, and looked for the helicopter. She could hear it, but had not yet seen it.

A male voice behind her suddenly spoke up.

"There!"

Sara searched the sky in the direction the Sheriff was pointing. Sure enough, a small black shape came into view.

Suddenly Sara remembered when she was a small child, hiding underneath her bed while her parents argued. She had prayed for a handsome prince to ride up and carry her away to a happy place where princes and princess played – naturally she was a princess, after all it was her dream.

Sara just never figured that her prince would be in a helicopter and that she would be weighing as much as two princesses.

Sara smirked, seeing the funny side.

_What the hell, a rescue was a rescue. _

The helicopter closed in rapidly until it was less than a couple of hundred yards away. It slowed down and hovered as it turned around to point back the way it had come then settled down in a cloud of dust. Sara and the Sheriff held up their hands to shield themselves from the worst of it. They could hear the altered note of the engine as the rotors slowed down.

After a few moments, Sara was able to see into the helicopter. The door opened and the person seated in the rear climbed out stiffly. Sara couldn't wait any longer, as soon as it appeared safe to do so she picked her way carefully over to the big machine.

Grissom saw her coming and hurried towards her, ducking whilst under the circumference of the blades, but still moving quickly.

The Sheriff, the pilot and co-pilot hung back, giving the couple a moment to themselves.

Larisa Martinez smiled to herself. She was a sucker for romance. This little trip certainly wouldn't hurt hers with Nicky. He didn't have to know that they had been coming out this way today anyway to collect time sensitive evidence for a case in Vegas. In fact, if he had called two hours later, she would already have left. As it was, everyone was happy.

Sara didn't have much time to figure out how she was going to greet Grissom. He took the decision out of her hands by enveloping her in a firm no-nonsense hug, immediately followed by a kiss that curled her toes. Before she had time to respond or get over her shock at such a public display of affection, his lips had already left hers.

Grissom growled sotto voce, discretely furious.

"_What in hell's name do you think you are playing at!"_

Sara was still held firmly against Grissom's solidly warm and comforting body. Despite his obvious anger, she could see the fear for her underneath it. The fear, and the love.

Her arms tightened around him, and her voice was affectionate as she examined his face with pleasure.

"Waiting for my prince."

Grissom gave her an odd look. His eyebrows went up.

"Sara?"

She smiled, her eyes suspiciously full.

"Nothing, it's okay. I'm very glad to see you. And I am sorry if I gave you any cause for concern. Or worry."

"_If!"_

Grissom's mouth worked while he obviously fought to keep the rest of his thoughts from manifesting themselves.

"I ought to paddle your backside. Except you'd probably like it."

Sara smiled, feeling closer to Grissom than she had in a long time.

"Hey, try it if you like. I see three cops who'd probably arrest _your_ ass."

Grissom looked at Sara's face and felt the wall around his heart start to tumble.

"No jury would convict."

Sara smiled. He was probably right.

Grissom leaned back slightly to look her over, suddenly remembering the car accident.

"You okay? Are you hurt? What about the baby? Have you seen a doctor?"

"Fine, no, fine, yes. We are okay. Honest."

Grissom had nearly run out of time, the others were coming over.

"Sara, we'll talk in the car. There is something I need to say; should have said before today."

Sara held on to Grissom's arms, unwilling to let him go before he had explained further, but he shook his head in a 'not now' gesture and she reluctantly let him go.

During the introductions, Sara surreptitiously watched Grissom to see if she could see any clue to what he wanted to say to her. Somehow she had the impression that it wasn't going to be bad, and her heart lifted even further.

It was at that moment that Sara realised that she had forgiven Grissom. Her recent reminder of her mortality had put things into perspective for her, and their estrangement now seemed like a waste of precious time that they could be spending together.

Grissom picked up the bag that he had dropped at Sara's feet prior to their greeting. They said their final 'thank-you's' and their goodbyes and then Grissom helped Sara in to the rental car as if she were made of glass. The fact that she had driven the car there was now obviously irrelevant and she hid her smile.

While Grissom walked around the car to get in the driver's seat, Sara realised that her stomach was tightening up again. She fussed with her seatbelt, using her hair as a screen to shield her flushed face. Grissom put his bag on the back seat, then climbed in the front and buckled up with a minimum of fuss.

The rental car pulled away from the impromptu airfield after a final wave from Sara. She turned back to Grissom.

"Nice people."

Grissom glanced at Sara before returning his gaze to the road.

"Nick certainly seems to think so."

Sara smirked.

"I'm assuming that you mean Larisa?"

Grissom nodded.

Sara smiled again, pleasantly distracted from her discomfort.

"Cool. She seemed nice."

"Got me here in one piece."

"I love her already."

Grissom shook his head once, the kind of gesture that was usually taken to mean 'what am I going to do with you'.

They travelled in companionable silence for several miles. The landscape was starkly beautiful and the sky was blue, looking for all the world as if there had never been a storm recently. Sara had not seen any vehicles, cars or otherwise pass them in either direction for several miles. She wondered if the isolation was one of the reasons that this area appealed to Grissom. They passed a sign indicating that the town of Rachel was ten miles ahead. Sara thought of pie.

Grissom stirred.

"You still haven't answered my earlier question."

His hands tightened briefly on the wheel, but he consciously made them relax again.

Sara looked at Grissom, then out of the passenger window, before turning back to her husband. She looked slightly sheepish but sounded a little defiant.

"Yeah, well. Mea Culpa, most grievously. It was stupid, foolish, idiotic, blah blah...I just needed to get away to think, which I did do. It was useful."

Grissom looked incredulous.

"_Useful! _It was 'incredibly dangerous' is what it was! Why the hell did you come out all this way? What was wrong with the hotel?"

Sara shifted in her seat.

"Nothing, I guess. I never went there. I wanted to go to the cabin to get…to find…to see if I could…"

She broke off, unwilling to risk Grissom laughing at her foolishness. She stared back out of the window. There was a long silence.

Grissom thought hard about the need to be 'someplace' and why he would have gone up to the cabin on his own. The last time he – they - had been there, had been wonderful. To have that time over again…he had a sudden flash of inspiration.

"You wanted to see if you could regain something of what we found there together."

Sara's head whipped around to face him, her astonishment plain.

"How did you know..?"

Grissom shrugged, not moving his eyes from the front.

"Educated guess."

He wanted to leave it at that, but he felt that he owed her the whole truth now.

"But also because I would have done the same thing for the same reason."

There was no answer from Sara, but Grissom felt her hand come to rest on his thigh. When he looked at her he was shocked to see tears sliding silently down her face. He checked his mirrors – not that he expected to see anything behind him - to see if it was safe to pull off the road, then looked at Sara again.

"Sara? Honey, what is it?"

Sara waved her free hand vaguely, then wiped her cheeks.

"Nothing. It's okay. Just stupid hormones. Ignore me."

Grissom pulled over and stopped the car. Crying women were not his forte, but at least he could be practical. He searched his pockets for a paper tissue, found a screwed up but unused one and handed it over.

Sara wiped her face again. When she had finished, she looked at Grissom. She could tell that he felt a little uncomfortable with her tears. She had never felt quite so naked in front of anyone for a long time. Her smile was tremulous.

"It's just…all been one helluva week. Call it relieved happy tears and let's move on, okay?"

"So long as that's all it is." Grissom looked at her, then reached out a hand to smooth a strand of hair off her face. He allowed his finger to trace over the soft damp skin of her cheek.

"There is no shame in reaching out to someone else. You have taught me that it's not a weakness to admit that there are times when you don't want to deal with something alone."

Sara smile wobbled, so Grissom released his belt and pulled her into his arms as best he could safely do around the bump. Sara's voice was muffled against his shoulder.

"Thanks. You seem to have acquired the knack of being there when I need you most."

Grissom closed his eyes as he held Sara, breathing in the scent of her hair and the warm familiar smell of her perfume. They were silent for a time and peacefulness settled over Grissom. Keeping his eyes closed, he started speaking softly.

"While you have been away, I have also been doing some soul searching." He felt Sara stiffen slightly, and soothed her with his hand. He assumed that she was surprised. " I used to think that the path of my life was pretty much mapped out. I knew what I was, what I was not, and where I was going. Now when I think about taking that journey without you, I think how meaningless it would be. I would not even want to start it. You are my heart Sara. The breath in my lungs."

Grissom unexpectedly felt Sara flinch; his eyes opened and he moved away from her to try to see her face – to try and see what she was thinking.

Sara could have wept with frustration. The words she so desperately wanted to hear and she was barely able to enjoy them. Her right hand clutched at her seatbelt as she tried to sit upright. Her eyes were wide with mute apprehension as she looked at Grissom. He looked at her, becoming alarmed.

"What is it?"

"I think my waters just broke."

Grissom looked at her with stunned incomprehension before he blurted,

"But you can't! The car's a rental!"

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: CSI is trademarked product. I am borrowing the characters for my temporary and non-profitmaking pleasure.

Title: Last Chance, chapter 23.

Author: hazeleyes57

Rating: R

A/N: The end at last! I apologise for the delay but depression tends to alter your priorities and outlook. Thank you to all of you who have reviewed and taken the time to contact me personally with your comments about the fic. You are what made it worthwhile getting up and getting on with it when I really didn't have the heart. Peace be with you.

**Last Chance, chapter 23**

"But you can't, the car's a rental!"

Grissom didn't need Sara's glare to point out the stupidity of his comment. He had been so disconcerted that he had spoken without thought. Now he looked at her while his brain scrambled to catch up. She was still trying to scowl, but some of her concern and residual pain was bleeding through it.

"It's not like I did it deliberately. I didn't know that it was going to happen. At least, not _now_, that is."

Her voice was subdued, but Grissom's was not.

"What precisely do you mean by, 'not _now_'? You know as well as I do that to get to this stage -"

Grissom looked at her with dawning suspicion.

"Just _exactly_ how long have you been having contractions?"

Sara looked at him with sheepish apology.

"Erm, I didn't realise that they were contractions. I thought they were just the practise ones, the Braxton's. It's not as if I've been through this before, I have no frame of reference. It's only been a little while since it occurred to me that they have been getting worse."

Grissom's voice was a model of steely patience.

"How _long_, Sara?"

"Possibly since…last night."

Sara's barely audible mumble was followed by a long moment of silence. Grissom's expression was as close to aghast as Sara had ever seen.

"_What?"_

Sara opened her door and put a foot out to get ready to manoeuvre her way out of the car. She looked back at Grissom, terse exasperation replacing her sheepishness.

"Get over it. It's happening and I can't change it. Help me get my bag, I need some things out of it."

Grissom didn't respond quickly enough; by the time he had thought of a suitably pithy response he would have been saying it to Sara's butt as she clambered out of the car. His lips compressed to a thin line as he got out of his side of the vehicle and went around to the trunk.

Ten minutes later, Sara was in fresh maternity pants and much more comfortable. At least, as much as she could be for someone who had recently discovered that she was in labour. In the time it had taken her to get changed, she had had another contraction. Grissom said nothing, just held her until it passed, but she could see the concern on his face as he then helped her keep her balance while she stepped into the pants.

Grissom took Sara's hand towel from her case and used it to cover her car seat, before helping her back into the car. Once they were both inside he turned to Sara, his left arm resting on the steering wheel.

"We know from the classes that once the waters have broken, the baby must be delivered within forty-five minutes because of the risk of infection."

Sara nodded in agreement, letting him continue.

"We're only ten miles from Rachel, we can get there soon enough. You okay until then?"

"Yes. What about you? Okay to drive?"

Grissom's eyebrows went up in surprise and he tipped his head to one side, looking full of curiosity.

"And if I'm not…?"

Sara's expression was familiar to Grissom. It was her 'I can do it if I have to' look. Despite their present circumstances his mouth twitched with amusement.

"It's okay, I think I can manage."

Sara didn't doubt him for a moment. She looked at her watch and smiled brightly.

"Show me whatcha got. 'Cos what I got is a bet that you can't do it in under a half hour."

Grissom looked sceptical as he turned the key in the ignition. He could hear the stress in Sara's voice.

"What you 'got' is another contraction."

Sara tried to look confident as she gently rubbed her tightening belly. The pain was a little unpleasant, but she was determined to play the whole thing down.

"Yeah, well, that too."

Grissom tone was resigned as he sighed.

"Sara. Sara."

He checked the road behind him before pulling out. Within a few minutes they were up to sixty miles an hour and covering some serious ground.

As he drove Grissom was trying to recall the contents of the chapter 'what to do when you go into labour' in the baby book that they were using as their pregnancy bible. Unfortunately, much of it was a blur. Watching Sara from time to time, he kept to himself the suspicion that Rachel was hardly big enough to qualify as a town so the chances of a doctor living there could be slim to none.

Right on cue he heard a quiet moan from her. He risked a very quick glance at her before looking forward again. He reached out and held her arm for a moment.

"Sara? Honey?"

Sara grinned through her discomfort.

"Now I know you're panicking, you called me 'honey' and it's still daylight."

Grissom managed a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He was concerned that this contraction was so close on the last one.

"I call you honey lots of times. In and out of bed. Do you remember the first time?"

Sara didn't answer for several seconds. She finally breathed a sigh of relief as her contraction faded.

"What? The first 'honey' or the first 'time'?"

"Very funny. The first 'honey'. If you've forgotten the first 'time' I'd be very disappointed."

"Me too, but I certainly wasn't. As to the first 'honey', that would have to be – do you know, I didn't realise it for some time after the explosion? Even then I thought I'd dreamed it. Weird, huh?"

Grissom tipped his head slightly as he gave it some thought.

"No, not really. I didn't notice that I'd said it at the time. It just escaped in the heat of the moment."

Sara gave him her cheeky one-sided Sidle smile.

"Hey, Gris had a 'heat of the moment' thing. Cool."

Grissom's lips twitched despite himself.

"You, Madam, have been the cause of many. As well you know."

Sara was unrepentant. She felt like a child who repeatedly wanted the same bedtime story.

"Yay me. But I don't tire of hearing about the moments that we connected before we 'connected'."

Grissom looked wry.

"Something to tell the grandchildren."

Sara huffed with quiet mirth.

"Well, the abridged version, at least." She suddenly shot Grissom a sharp look. "Are you trying to distract me?"

Grissom glanced quickly at her before looking away to the front.

"Is it working?"

"I'll let you know in about two minutes when the next – oh!"

Sara inhaled sharply and clutched at her belly with both hands. She turned to Grissom, her eyes wide in shocked surprise.

"It's early! It wasn't supposed to come for another two minutes! Not supposed to – ggrahh."

She couldn't finish her sentence; she just held on to herself and rode out the pain. Grissom knew that one of them needed to remain calm and it looked to him as if there was only one volunteer.

"Sara, try to relax, come on, remember your breathing."

The car started to slow down as Grissom's attention was diverted and Sara shook her head frantically. Her voice was high pitched when she did finally speak.

"Jeezus! Don't stop, we need to go faster not slower!"

Grissom managed to override his instinctive urge to bridle at Sara's peremptory command. It was a pity that his instinct for self-survival wasn't more finely tuned.

"Come on Sara, try to relax and breathe through the contraction like we've been taught."

As soon as she could speak again a furious Sara rounded on Grissom.

"What's this 'we' crap! _I'm_ the one in agony here. Don't tell me to damn well relax!"

Grissom gave Sara a double take at the unexpected outburst, then put his foot down. The car sped up while he tried to keep his attention in two places. He made the tone of voice positive and reassuring. Only he knew that he was sweating underneath.

"I'm not telling you to relax, I'm suggesting it as a method of coping with the pain, as it recommends in the books. You've done your homework, you know what to do."

As he was speaking Grissom was relieved to see the two-mile marker for Rachel ahead. Sara was hugging her belly with one hand and holding the door handle with the other. Her feet were braced in the footwell.

"You know as well as I do that the breathing doesn't do squat. It's supposed to give us something else to think about instead of the pain. But please don't tell me that it helps because I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!"

Grissom's mouth closed with a snap. He had seen Sara happy, sad, upset, angry and ecstatic before today, but he could not recall her ever being this furious before. Her anger was usually of the icy cold variety, making her unemotional and distant. This hot fury was new to him.

"Only a couple of miles to go. We're nearly there."

"Can't you go any faster? Jeez you drive like a woman! Pretend you're Warrick for the rest of the journey and drive like there's no tomorrow. Put your foot down!"

Grissom did not spare a glance for the speeding scenery outside of the car. He knew that he was driving as fast as he could and so did Sara. It was just her pain and fear talking, so he ignored the insult.

A minute later the one-mile marker for Rachel passed by. Sara was openly moaning now as she rubbed her belly through her clothing. To Grissom the interval between the contractions seemed to have vanished.

"Sara, everything is going to be fine, we're nearly there. Not much further. Think about the baby, how much you're looking forward to seeing him. Or her. This is what you've been waiting for."

Sara looked at Grissom, her eyes conveying her confusion. She was in pain, but she was also feeling vulnerable and the smallest bit insecure.

"Not just me…? You want this baby too, don't you?"

Grissom looked at her in surprise. Did she really think that there was any doubt? In a series of quick flashes his mind summed up the last year in seconds.

His horrified embarrassment at being asked to be the donor by a drunk Sara, vying with the wish that if she had to have a child that it be his. His dismay for her when their first few attempts didn't work. Finally admitting that he loved her up at the cabin and the terrible time he put her through when he lost his memory. Standing alone in his newly painted former study, realising that his child would soon, God willing, be occupying the crib. A son or daughter, someone who he could share so much with, purely because his or her mother had taught him how to love and be loved. He glanced back at the road and smoothly corrected the car's slight drift before looking back to Sara. He managed a smile.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Even through her pain, Sara could tell from Grissom's voice was sincere, but he wasn't finished yet.

"I'm sorry that you were ever in any doubt. I never imagined having a family, and I can honestly say that I would never have contemplated it at all but for you, and would not have considered it _with_ anyone but you."

Grissom reached out and squeezed Sara's hand reassuringly. He was taken aback by the pressure of her grip. He shot her another look, this one full of concern.

"Sara?"

Sara looked at him with wide eyes. Her voice was tight.

"It's horrible, Gil."

"I know, I know. We're nearly -"

Grissom tried to soothe her, but she cut in.

"No, no, you don't know. It's not you going through this…this…o-o-oh!"

Sara bent forward, huddling over the pain. She did not let go of Grissom's hand and he leaned over, tugged halfway across the vehicle. He looked alarmed as the car swerved slightly and he hurriedly compensated. He pulled on his hand, torn between comforting his wife and controlling the vehicle.

"Sara, you have to let go, I need my hand back or we're going to have an accident. _Sara!_"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kaley Tamm contemplated the array of fruit pie portions in the chiller cabinet. She had just finished refilling the shelves, ready for the lunchtime customers. She looked around the place, checking that all was in order. She smiled in private satisfaction; she was good to go. Some folks thought that it was too quiet living here, away from the bigger towns, but she and her husband liked it just fine. Being listed as a 'UFO hotspot' made them busy enough to run a financially successful eatery, but quiet enough to give individual service with a friendly atmosphere. She grinned suddenly. _She sure got to meet some interesting folks._

An attractive brunette in her late twenties, Kaley had an unquenchable optimism that 'things' would work out right. She had a job she loved and a husband she adored. She didn't waste time worrying about what she couldn't change. She only had two rules that she lived by: one, don't sweat the small stuff, and two, everything was small stuff.

So she was quite unperturbed when the door to her establishment opened suddenly, revealing a man who did not look like he was here for the excellent pie. She smiled anyway, knowing that her husband was in the kitchen having his midday meal, only a shout away.

"Hi, can I help you?"

The man did not come right into the large room, but looked around quickly as if searching for something.

"Yes, I need directions - to find a doctor, or a hospital if you have one nearby."

Kaley automatically stepped from behind the counter, wiping her hands on a small towel as she hurried forward.

"Is someone hurt?"

The man, late forties, maybe early fifties, but still attractive even in his distressed state, gestured over to the open door behind him.

"It's my wife; we're - she's having a baby."

Kaley's face cleared and she smiled again.

"Congratulations! That's wonderful. You must be -"

She was going to say 'thrilled', but stopped when it occurred to her that he looked more like a man barely keeping his anxiety under control than a happy papa-to–be.

"No, you don't understand. She's having it _now_, I need to find a doctor and quickly!"

Kaley's smile unexpectedly widened. She was close enough to pat the man's forearm in reassurance.

"No problem. Where is she?"

The man looked puzzled.

"Who? The doctor?"

"No, your wife."

"Outside. Where is the doct - "

The man interrupted himself as Kaley turned her head away and gave a surprisingly loud holler.

"Simon!"

She hurried back around the counter and almost bumped into her husband as he came out from the kitchen, still wiping his mouth with a paper napkin.

"What's up, honey?"

Kaley indicated their only 'customer'.

"Man needs a doctor."

Simon looked fondly at his wife before looking at the stranger, who didn't appear to be in medical need himself.

"How can I help?"

The man looked at him, not in surprise, as he would have expected, but merely in swift assessment.

"And you are…?"

"The town's doctor."

The older man's face relaxed in relief for a fleeting moment as he nodded once.

"It's my wife who needs you, she's out in the car."

Kaley interjected in excitement.

"They're having a baby and soon."

Simon's expression had an 'aha' moment. He turned to the stranger.

" You lead the way, let's go see how your wife is doing."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara was very grateful to see Grissom coming back. He had a couple of people with him, but she had barely taken the fact in before she was bent again in agony. It was much worse than she had ever imagined it to be and she was having trouble distancing herself from the pain. It was so difficult to concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing, breathing-wise.

Grissom let the young doctor take the lead. He was a firm believer in letting the experts do their job. The doctor opened the passenger door and crouched low beside Sara.

"Hi, my name is Simon, I'm a doctor. What's your name?"

His voice was calm and pleasant and it gave Sara something else to focus on.

"Sara. Sara Grissom."

The doctor smiled reassuringly while his professional gaze took in the situation.

"Nice name. Now, how are you doing?"

Sara bit back the urge to snarl something sarcastic and managed a brief 'okay'.

"How many weeks are you?"

Sara puffed and her face went red. Her chin came down as she emitted a low growl. Grissom supplied the answer for her.

"Nearly thirty nine weeks."

The doctor looked briefly back at Grissom as if to say 'and you're out driving around for what?' but Grissom's returned look made Simon realise that their presence here was not a mutual choice. He hid a smile as he turned back to Sara.

"That's good, the baby's ready, all we need is to get you somewhere a little more comfortable before he arrives. Do you think you can get out of the car?"

Sara nodded, less red now that the contraction was easing. She allowed Grissom and the doctor to assist her, and managed to be on her feet beside the car before the next contraction arrived. As they started to walk towards the building, Simon looked over Sara's head to Grissom.

"Do you have the hospital baby bag with you? The one packed ready?"

"Yes, it's in the back. I'll get it."

Sara grabbed at Grissom's arm.

"No, don't go!"

Kaley – who had been hovering out of the way – stepped up and looked at Grissom.

"I'll get it, you go with your wife."

Grissom nodded gratefully and went with Sara. He barely noticed that the pie shop now had waiting customers in the time it had taken to get inside. The three of them made their way through the shop into the kitchen. Grissom wondered where they were headed until Simon opened a door on the other side of the room and they found themselves in a fully equipped doctor's surgery. At Grissom's surprised look, Simon smiled.

"Work from home. Free pie."

Grissom would have smiled but Sara groaned and his attention was suddenly diverted. Between the two of them they managed to get Sara out of her clothes and into an examination gown in an attempt to afford her some modesty, although by this time she was past caring.

Sara was racked with pain, desperately wanted the bathroom and just wanted it all to be over. She was mad to be having a baby. She had no idea how to go about anything, she couldn't even cope with labour, how was she going to raise a child?

Her brain rambled on with its internal dialogue, while outside she moaned in pain as she leaned on Grissom.

"I've changed my mind, give me something for the pain!"

Grissom stood holding her while also trying to encourage her to climb up on to the couch. She managed to swing her legs up with difficulty just as Simon returned from washing his hands and donning some latex gloves. Grissom took Sara's left hand in his.

"You said that you didn't want anything, you were worried abou - "

Sara's right hand smacked onto Grissom's mouth while she tugged on his hand with her left and dragged him close. His astonished eyes above her fingers might have comical had she not been so mad.

"Give me drugs NOW!"

Her snarl was shocking and Grissom was stunned until he suddenly realised what her fury meant. He hardly noticed the pain in his hand. His mouth was suddenly freed when Sara needed her hand back to clutch at her belly.

"AAArgh! This is all your fault! God! Why does it have to hurt so fucking much!"

Grissom had no answer. He looked at the doctor.

Simon didn't make any move to examine Sara. It was obvious to him from her behaviour that she was already in transition and the baby was coming now, fully dilated or not. He answered for Grissom.

"Just nature doing her job Sara, helping your baby into the world. You're doing fine. Not much longer now."

The waves of pain rolled over Sara in a continuous wave, without respite. Their quality had changed and she felt the overwhelming urge to push. She came almost upright into a half sitting position in order to get her weight behind her efforts.

Behind Grissom the door opened again and Kaley set the baby case down on a table by the window. A friend was taking care of her customers, although most of them had realised what was going on and were content to wait anyway. One of the nicer things about living in such a small community.

Kaley looked at her husband, raising her eyebrows in silent enquiry. He nodded and she smiled.

Grissom felt helpless. There was nothing he could do to help Sara save hold her, and that he did to his best ability. He had an arm around her back to help her stay up as she appeared to want, and his other hand was still being squashed in hers. He looked at Sara and wished that he could take her pain away. Part of him felt exhilarated. They were about to see their baby for the first time and he didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, so long as it was okay.

Sara cried out.

"I want to push! I can't stop it!"

"It's okay Sara, just work with the contractions, don't fight them. Push when they do."

Simon's voice was a calm contrast against the tension in Sara and Grissom.

"Grriiiisssommm!"

"I'm here honey, I'm here."

Grissom was looking at Simon's gloved hands as he patiently held absorbent cotton against Sara, mopping up the leaking amniotic fluid as it was pushed passed the baby. Sara cried out again and Grissom winced at the pain in his fingers.

"_It's burning_!"

Simon looked up to Sara's face.

"The baby's crowning, not long now."

Sara forced her eyes open, she wasn't going to miss this for anything. She couldn't help growling aloud, but she watched as her baby's head emerged, followed by one shoulder, then the other. The rest of the baby followed in a sudden slithery rush into Simon's waiting hands. The physical relief was profound but Sara didn't breathe until she heard her baby's indignant squawk. She laughed with relief, hugging Grissom and being squeezed tightly back while Simon checked the dark-haired infant over before partially wrapping the baby in a birth sheet.

"Well, Sara, you have a fine healthy baby here, more than eager to meet Mom and Dad."

Mindful of the still-attached cord, Simon handed the baby up to Sara, who took hold of the infant as if it were the most important and fragile of specimens. She looked at Grissom who was looking at the baby with awe. He looked back to Sara's glowing face and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, too full to speak.

Kaley couldn't restrain herself any longer.

"What is it?"

All three of them looked at her, Simon with wry acceptance of his wife's impatience.

Sara and Grissom looked at each other in shocked amusement. Sara moved the sheet a little. She grinned up at her husband.

"Pity the poor boys that will have to get past you to date our daughter."

The overwhelming mixture of pride and protectiveness that went through him profoundly moved Grissom. He reached out to touch his daughter for the first time, putting one of his fingers under her tiny hand. She was so small and delicate and perfect. His voice was gruff.

"She won't be dating until she's at least thirty."

Sara's smile was tremulous with extreme emotion. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

"We'll see. She's a mixture of both of us, so she won't be short of her own opinions."

Grissom nodded slowly. He didn't doubt it for a minute.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Less than an hour later Sara was resting comfortably in the Tamm's spare bedroom. Simon had said that they could be on their way home in the morning if there were no problems over the next eight hours. Sara was exhausted and sore but happy. She was still smiling over the expression on Grissom's face when Simon had let him cut the umbilical cord. Grissom could face a bloated corpse without flinching, but his daughter's former lifeline to her mother was another matter. He managed not to disgrace himself in front of the doctor, but he hadn't fooled Sara as he cut between the two tied off sections.

Sara looked in the crib, surprised at the strength of the desire to pick her daughter up and hold her close.

"You can pick her up you know. She won't break."

Sara looked up at Kaley, standing in the doorway with a tray. She smiled as the younger woman crossed to the bed.

"I know, but I don't want to disturb her, she looks so peaceful."

The bedroom door opened again and Grissom came in with a glass of milk. He looked at the two women and then the crib. He handed Sara the milk and she thanked him. He turned to leave, thinking that the two women were bound to want to 'talk'.

Kaley placed the tray on the table beside the bed. There was a plate of sandwiches and a slice of pie.

"Vegetarian cheese and salad, and some of my best cherry pie. Eat first, then you can pick up this darling little one."

Sara's mouth was watering already as she reached for the sandwiches. Kaley turned to include Grissom in her enquiry.

"Have you got a name for her?"

Grissom looked to Sara and their eyes met. They had no trouble settling on a boy's name, but had been undecided on a girl's.

Sara looked back to their daughter in the crib, then back at Grissom.

"What do you think of 'Rachel'?"

Grissom thought about it. He tried it aloud.

"Rachel Grissom."

Kaley clasped her hands together with quiet glee and nodded, waiting for his decision.

Sara smirked up at Grissom.

"Well?"

Grissom smiled as he gently touched his daughter's head. He looked sideways at Sara.

"I think it's perfect."

At his pronouncement, Kaley let out a tiny squeak of excitement and rushed off to tell Simon.

After she had left the room, Grissom sat on the bed beside Sara's knees. He rested one hand on the blanket over her legs in a 'we're not alone so this is all I can touch you' gesture.

"For a moment there I thought we were going to be taking Rachel Kaley Simone Grissom home with us."

Sara, her mouth full of sandwich, nodded enthusiastically.

"Betsmyboat."

Grissom looked blank, unable to decipher the sandwich-speak.

"What?"

Sara swallowed and grinned.

"I said 'gets my vote'."

Grissom looked surprised and hesitant. He hadn't really planned on his – their – daughter having several names. But if it was what Sara wanted -

"You should see your face." She took a sip of the milk. " I'm kidding Gil, Rachel Grissom is fine."

Grissom's face cleared and he half-smiled in ironic appreciation.

"Very good. However, I did think that one middle name might be in order."

Sara looked at him, eyebrows up in enquiry as she bit into the sandwich again.

Grissom smirked and leaned forward to whisper in Sara's ear.

Sara nearly choked on her food. She quickly looked at him, her eyes wide.

"You wouldn't! How would you explain it to her if she asked?"

Grissom shrugged, his eyes twinkling. "I'd tell her to ask her mom."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning Simon and Kaley stood at the side of the road and waved as the Grissom family pulled away on the last leg of their journey home. Kaley and Sara had become good friends in a very short space of time and details had been exchanged with a view to further contact, although Grissom was unsure whether or not it would happen. Bonds forged under duress or trauma of some kind didn't always last. As the community of Rachel fell away behind them and the 375 stretched ahead, Grissom hoped for her sake that they did, because he had never seen Sara take to someone that quickly before.

Back in Rachel, Kaley and Simon wandered back into the house, arm in arm. Kaley looked up at her husband.

"Sure was nice having a baby in the house. Got some use out of my old crib at least." She gave him a hug, then ran her hand over his back with affection. " Zoe did well with the customers yesterday, said she enjoyed herself, you know, giving me a hand."

Simon smiled. He was very familiar with the roundabout way his wife's brain worked.

"I thought you liked being on your own at the shop."

"I did, I do. But I can fit in other stuff too."

Simon sounded quite innocent as he enquired.

"Other stuff?"

Kaley looked even more innocent.

"Mmmn."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The telephone on Grissom's desk rang and Catherine Willows let it until she had signed off the report she was dealing with. They were currently very busy, especially with Sara and Gil absent. She wondered briefly how they were doing as she picked up the call.

"Willows."

She heard the office door open and looked up to see Warrick enter. She waved him over.

"Hey, Gill! Think of the devil. How's it going? Is Sara okay, where are you?"

She laughed, partly with relief. She held the receiver so that Warrick could listen in. She didn't want to risk being overheard on speakerphone.

"No, no. We're fine here, it's okay. Yeah, we're busy, but that's not unusual. How's Sara?"

Catherine was quiet for a moment, but her face was expressive. Warrick could tell it was good news and he smiled. Way to go Gil.

"She's okay? _They're_ okay? She's had the baby? What…?"

Catherine smiled and looked at Warrick.

"Okay, I'll let them know. Yeah, you too. Have fun; give my best to Sara. Congratulations, _Dad_."

She hung up the telephone and made a note on her 'post it' pad. She smiled at Warrick.

"They got back this morning. Sara's had a girl, eight pounds exactly, going to call her Rachel, 'cause that's where she decided to turn up."

Warrick was pleased for Grissom and Sara. Sara a _Mom_, and with Gil of all people, who would have guessed? His grin widened.

"Let's go tell the others. Find out who won the bets."

Catherine looked both exasperated and amused.

"Warrick!"

"Don't tell me you didn't have something down, at least on the sex?"

Catherine got up from the chair and walked around the desk. She did not link arms with Warrick, but wanted to. She smirked.

"I might have. I might not. Let's go."

They left Grissom's office to go and pass on the good news.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grissom walked along the corridor on the way to his office. So much had happened since he left Conrad Ecklie's lecture and walked out of this building, that he felt as if he had been absent for weeks. But it had been less than three weeks since Brass had passed on the fateful message from Mrs. Weston. He and Sara were now parents. He had a _daughter_. Just thinking of Rachel made him smile inwardly. He didn't know if it was a factor of being an older father, or if it was because he never thought he would have a family, but it had surprised him how much he had enjoyed being with Sara and Rachel this last few weeks. For one of the few times that he could recall, he had actually wanted to stay at home today, especially as his mother was visiting as well.

Instead he had forced himself to come in early. Catherine had asked him to set aside some time for a hand-over so that he could review all the running cases and he had suggested this time. Grissom frowned thoughtfully as he entered his office and walked past a small pile of storage boxes that hadn't been there before his break. He crossed to his desk. Its surface was quite tidy, if a little crowded. He wondered why Catherine had insisted on coming in an hour early for this, when it was obvious that she had already got it well organised. He sat down, pulled over the topmost file and started to read.

Five minutes later, Grissom's beeper went off. Deep in the report, he looked blank for a split second, then plucked the pager out of his pocket.

'_Come to break rm. need coffee'_

It was from Catherine. Grissom didn't sigh, although he felt like it. He was deeply suspicious of the summons. He had warned them in the past that he didn't 'do' cake in the breakroom, and he would be prepared to bet that this call had something to do with his marriage. He stood up. Better to get it over with.

It was a matter of minutes before he got to the communal tea and refreshment area, but he was surprised to find it deserted. He looked around.

"Catherine?"

His pager buzzed.

'_Sorry, delayd. B abt 10 mins. Do coff pot, CW'_

Now Grissom did sigh. He crossed to the coffee-pot and a few minutes later he had fresh coffee brewing. He checked his watch again and decided that he had time to collect the file he had been reading and finish it off before Catherine's arrival. He left the breakroom for his office, head down, mildly irritated.

Grissom stopped in the corridor, near the LVPD wall of shields and looked around. Was it his imagination, or could he smell Sara's fragrance? Nearby day shift staff still looked busy, their heads down. There were a couple of women; probably someone was wearing the same perfume as Sara. He turned back and resumed the course to his office. He stopped again and frowned.

Odd, he didn't recall closing his office blinds. He stepped forward into the darkened office.

"SURPRISE!"

Grissom didn't exactly jump out of his skin, but it was close. He stood frozen in the doorway to his office as the lights came on and – it seemed to him – people came out of the woodwork. Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Brass, Greg, Bobby, other members of staff, even Hodges, were crowded into his office. Catherine came forward, a paper cup in her hand, which she held out to the still shocked Supervisor. Grissom took it without thinking.

"C'mon, tell the truth, we got you, didn't we?"

Grissom tried for a stony-faced look, but Catherine was still smiling, so he would have to work on it. Sometimes it was a pity that she knew him so well. Some of 'this' was obviously what had been hidden in those storage boxes.

"I will admit that I was expecting trouble in the breakroom."

Catherine laughed delightedly.

"I have another surprise too."

Behind her, their co-workers parted to reveal Sara, seated in the most comfortable of Grissom's office chairs. Her grin was wide and mischievous.

"Hey, Boss."

Grissom shook his head, a smile threatening to break out. He felt a momentary panic about Rachel's whereabouts, until he realised that Sara wouldn't have let the baby out of her sight unless she trusted that she would be safe. He crossed to Sara's chair, but didn't bend to kiss her, not in front of everyone else. Her grin widened even more, aware of his discomfort.

Catherine was still smiling as she shushed everyone after the general hubbub of greetings were over.

"I'd like to propose a couple of toasts, even if it is in orange juice."

Laughter rippled through the crowd. Catherine turned back to Sara and Grissom.

"To Sara and her beautiful new daughter, who she assures me she _will_ bring in to meet us."

Again the laughter was heard before everyone held their cups aloft and hailed 'Sara and her daughter'.

"And a toast to our beloved Supervisor - "

There was much mocking and catcalling in the laughter this time, but it was done with good grace.

"Who has finally jumped into the matrimonial pool!"

Grissom suffered the round of applause and whistling with some grace. He was not comfortable with this situation and it was only Sara's presence that had prevented him from simply turning around and walking away.

Before Catherine could complete the toast she heard Hodges' voice from the back.

"Who would be mad enough to take him on?"

A year ago the tone would have been snidey, but Hodges had mellowed a little, and when he wasn't being unreasonable he could almost be funny. Grissom just looked at him without comment. There could have been an awkward moment, but it never had chance to develop. Sara raised her hand.

"Ah, that would be me?"

Some knew and some had guessed, but Hodges had not been one of them. _That meant that the baby was…_he gaped first at Grissom then Sara, thoroughly disconcerted.

"You?"

Sara smiled as she stared Hodges out, daring him to comment. He looked nonplussed, but recovered quickly and managed to sound quite sincere.

"Well then, congratulations. On both counts."

Hodges looked around the others to see if anyone was as surprised as he was. There were no takers. Catherine diverted attention by raising her cup again.

"To Gil and Sara. Happiness always."

Everyone echoed the toast and Catherine guided the reluctant pair over to Grissom's desk, which had been cleared double quick time to house a large rectangular cardboard box. It was lifted clear to reveal a frosted cake with 'congratulations' diagonally across it. It was further decorated with silver and gold rice paper bells, little strollers, and much to Sara's amusement, little golden handcuffs. Grissom was still surprised that Catherine had managed to achieve so much in such a short time, but Sara was not at all surprised to see what had been completed. Catherine was a formidable woman.

Cake was cut and distributed, photographs were taken – courtesy of Warrick – and the proverbial good time was had by almost all. The time flew for everyone except Grissom, and before long it was time to start the shift. When the last of the celebrants was ushered out of his office, Grissom turned to Sara.

"Just how long have you been keeping secrets from me?"

Sara pretended to think deeply, then looked at her wristwatch.

"Mmm, about three hours. Catherine sent me a text before you left for work. Your Mom and I were in cahoots. And Rachel, of course."

Grissom's face cleared.

"Of course. Three generations of women ganging up on me. I didn't stand a chance."

Sara smirked as she moved in for a discrete hug, sliding her hands under her husband's tee shirt. She was still enjoying the ability to hold him without the bump between them.

"No, you did not. But a gracious loser is always appreciated, and usually rewarded."

Sara leaned in towards Grissom and his interest was peaked but he reminded himself that they had both agreed that there should be no inappropriate behaviour at work. To Sara's regret he stepped back slightly, but tempered his withdrawal with a smile.

"Hold that thought, I'd like to discuss it with you later."

Sara understood and didn't try to change his mind. With touching reluctance she too withdrew slightly, but then smirked.

"There's quite a bit we could discuss, even with another four weeks embargo."

Grissom nodded once, his mouth hiked at one side in amusement.

"I shall look forward to it."

They were physically separate now, not touching at all, but Grissom felt her touch as surely as a promise. Sara smiled a private smile, just for him.

"There could be rolls."

Grissom's eyebrows shot upwards in polite enquiry, but Sara was not fooled. His eyes glittered.

"Cinnamon?"

"You have to ask?"

Grissom raised his eyebrows and shook his head once.

"Do you think that's wise? Bearing in mind what happened last time?"

Sara moved to the door of Grissom's office and looked back at her husband. Her smirk was wide.

"You're right. Best not to risk it. You can wait a month, can't you?"

"_Sara_."

Grissom's warning growl merely made Sara's smile even wider. She waggled the fingers of one hand at him in farewell.

"See you later, honey. Have a good night. See you in the morning."

Grissom looked at the floor of his office and sighed. In an almost indifferent movement he beckoned Sara back into the room. He moved behind one of his shelves of specimen jars and exhibits.

"Before you go, would you mind dropping this in to Trace on your way out? I forgot to give it to Greg."

Sara looked faintly surprised, but never gave it a thought before responding to his request. She walked around the shelving unit, wondering what 'this' was.

In a totally unexpected move, Grissom grabbed Sara, pinning her arms to her sides. She looked shocked at first, but then bent her arms to wrap them around his waist. Each had a hold of the other. For a long beat they just looked at each other, daring the other to move. Grissom broke first and dipped his head to kiss Sara. She kissed him back with fervour, her tongue mating with his in a snatched and frantic dance.

Grissom knew that it was madness and that it had to stop. He was going to stop in just a minute. Just a few more sweet seconds. Just a…

The rattling crash of Sara backing into the metal shelving unit brought them both to their senses. They parted abruptly, both swollen-lipped and flushed with arousal. Sara held on to Grissom's waist to keep herself upright and was perfectly aware of the effect that she had on him. She forced her whisper to be steady.

"Well, there's no way in hell I'm giving _that_ to Greg."

Grissom huffed in grim admiration.

"I should hope not."

They looked into each other's eyes. Sara released Grissom from her hold.

"I'd better go. Someone will come in looking for you before long."

Grissom brought both of his hands up to gently cup her face.

"Maybe I don't care."

Sara smiled.

"Yes, you do, and so do I. I'll see you back home later."

Grissom nodded and Sara backed away, then turned to leave. Before Grissom had chance to move, her head popped back around the unit.

"Bye the way? Don't forget to bring your monkey home. I reckon it needs a good spank."

She vanished again and he heard her laughter over his outraged _'Sara!'_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Ten months earlier at the cabin in the mountains._

Sara wandered into the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively as she stretched. Grissom straightened up from the oven, a baking tray held in his protected hand. He slid the tray on to the top of the stove as he looked at Sara. In deference to the early morning chill she was wearing her short silk robe, loosely belted around her slim waist. Her hair was fluffed up and her cheeks rosy. Grissom's heart hitched in his chest. She looked so beautiful.

Sara moved towards the stove, her eyes lighting up.

"What is that fantastic smell?"

Grissom saw an opportunity for amusement.

"Do you like it? It's a new cologne I'm trying out."

Sara rolled her eyes in droll appreciation.

"You don't wear cologne, it messes with your senses. And it smells just like cinnamon rolls, which is an odd choice for a signature scent, don't you think?"

Grissom watched her as she eyed up the freshly baked rolls. One of her hands rested on the sleeve of his robe, either in greeting or restraint, presumably depending on whether or not she intended 'liberating' one of the rolls.

"Odd, but not unheard of." He slid his free arm around Sara's waist, feeling the silk slide under his fingers. "I was hoping that you would have a lie-in this morning. You look a little peaked."

Sara looked up at his face. Her expression said 'whose fault is that?' but she just smirked.

"I'll try to get some rest later. Right now, the cinnamon is calling me; _'please Sara, take me, take me, it is my mission to be eaten by you right now'_ and who am I to resist?"

Grissom stepped toward Sara as her hand snaked out, the move making them both step further away from the still-hot rolls and prevented Sara from snagging one.

"It could equally be argued that _that_ was what I was thinking, but now I guess we'll never know. The rolls are for later. They need to cool down first, they're too hot."

Sara eyed him, trying to judge how serious he was about the rolls. As to his comment about taking him instead of the rolls…mmm…difficult choice. On the other hand, he was around all day, but the rolls would be cold later. She leaned into Grissom's chest, hugging him with her right arm, while trying to slide her left hand unnoticed along the work surface.

Sara's body against his admittedly distracted Grissom, but he did not fail to see Sara's antics. He put both of his arms around her and lifted her up, holding her solidly against him as he stepped away from the work surface. He smirked.

"You'll have to do better than that. Amateur."

Grissom wasn't the only one distracted by bodily contact. Sara was wearing nothing under her silk robe, and she knew that he had nothing on under his. She wriggled in a half-hearted attempt to get free, but she couldn't honestly say that she minded being 'stuck' in his arms. Although having said that, she couldn't let him get away unchallenged.

"Bully."

Grissom frowned at her in fake puzzlement.

"Pardon me?"

Sara grinned innocently.

"You heard."

Grissom frowned and his eyes narrowed.

"Mmn, but I had hoped that I'd heard wrong."

Sara recognised the look in his eye. It was pure Gil at his devilish best. She attempted to take a pace back, but could not. She put a hand out in feeble defence as she felt her laughter bubble up. About four seconds later she was cursing the fact that he now knew all of her most ticklish places.

"No, Gill! Hey, that's not fair!"

Grissom held Sara in close and ran his fingers down her ribs with his right hand. She shrieked and wriggled furiously, but to no avail. When she tried to stomp on his bare foot with hers, he picked her up, plonked her on the kitchen table, and stood between her knees, preventing her from escaping. He frowned fiercely, but Sara could see the telltale humour in his eyes. He leaned in against her, his breath warm on her cheek as he directed his words towards her ear.

"Fair? Trying to stand on my foot is fair, then?"

Sara shrugged, delighting in the horseplay, but hiding it.

"Absolutely. Totally fair. In fact, I would say -"

What she would say was not discovered because Grissom took advantage of her distraction to cover her mouth with his. Her parted lips enabled him to deepen the kiss before Sara could refuse him – not that it had actually crossed her mind.

Grissom's higher brain function was dealing with all the incoming signals while his body was running on instinct. Despite being awake half the night, he wanted Sara just as much now as he had the other day out in the rain. He could feel the moment that Sara's surprise and token resistance softened and faded away to be replaced by her willing co-operation. He hadn't intended to do this even five minutes ago, but Sara's proximity, their state of undress, even the sweet woodsy smell of the cinnamon made him forget about breakfast in bed. Grissom's breath became choppy, as he was unable to prevent his response to her nearness. He felt himself stir as he kissed her and pulled her into his arms. His heartbeat picked up, pumping blood into places that really didn't need any more.

Sara leaned a little more heavily into Grissom and he groaned. He felt a hand in his hair and one pulling at his lapel, tugging him closer to her body. In his mind he could see how this looked from across the kitchen. His Sara was sitting on the edge of the sturdy table, one of her legs snagged around one of his, ensuring that he wasn't going to leave.

Grissom's mouth was hot and damp, he pulled at her tongue to suck on it, then gave her his, stroking over her teeth, teasing and enticing. He nipped at her bottom lip, then soothed it, slanting his head for better access. His eyes closed but he could see it all in his head. Somewhere between one moment and the next, the lazy arousal became hotter and more intense. They broke off for air, both breathing heavily as they looked at each other. Not in hesitation, just simple appreciation.

They didn't speak, no words were needed. Still pressing each to the other, they pulled at each other's robe, parting the material to remove what little barrier there was between them. Grissom's mouth devoured Sara's for long moments as he took pleasure from the vibrating little moans issuing from her lips.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Censored for – available on the adult version

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sara was racked with sensation. Each time she thought that Grissom had made her feel as good as it was possible to feel, he came up with something that took her even further. Her arms trembled as they tried to support her as she leaned back on them. His fingers were magical; they teased and aroused, giving her so much but not enough. She wanted him to plunge them into her, stroking her hard, taking her over the edge as he had done so many times this last few days. Instead, he was racking up the tension, making her mad with desire. She could feel her leg muscles taut as she tried to push herself on to Grissom's hand, but he kept up the maddening massage. She didn't know how much more she could take.

Grissom ached. At the back of his mind he had hoped that taking care of Sara would distract himself sufficiently to ease his own arousal, but her sighs and sexy little moans were adding more wood to the fire. He didn't need to look down to see that 'wood' was the last thing he needed more of. She was just so sensual that she everything he did for her came back to heat him too. The look of her, the scent of her, the touch of her, but most of all the taste of her. Dear God, the taste of her was ambrosia. He couldn't wait, he leaned forward and dipped his tongue, her flavour bursting on him like champagne.

Sara's reaction was instantaneous. Her arms crashed to her elbows and her head was flung back as she cried out. Her thighs came up as her body tensed against Grissom's mouth, anxious to keep him just where he was and continue the exquisite joy.

Sara's world had focused to this room and this moment. Her eyes were squeezed shut as her body crashed to the table and she never even felt her head hitting the table or the jar of spice fall over, spilling out its contents. She felt herself teetering on the brink of orgasm, so close but just on the edge. Her hands gripped the sides of the table as her pelvis strained up to her lover's mouth. Sara's head rolled from side to side as she strived towards completion. Her hands squeezed her breasts and her hips rocked. Just a little more…just a little…

Sara's whole body clenched as the most exhilarating rush spread through her arms and legs. The tingling buzz ran from her fingers and toes up though her limbs and torso, all heading towards the juncture of her legs. A white heat enveloped her and she felt like she was flying. It was a staggering sensation, the most incredible come of her life and Sara was breathless with it, but coupled with it was astonishment that it was going on and on. It had never lasted long enough for her to be consciously aware of time passing before.

Grissom watched Sara convulse on the table under his hands. It was one of the most amazing sights he had ever seen. To be able to give her such pleasure, to make her feel like that made him feel ten feet tall. He waited until she had calmed before stroking her gently and she shivered with reaction, her eyes opening and searching him out. He smiled at her, and waited for her to focus before he bent down to kiss her.

Sara couldn't have moved if the table had been on fire. Her whole body was limp, draped over the kitchen table in a completely sated state. Grissom had wrung every last drop from her. She felt him remove his fingers and then touch her again. The electric 'after tingle' made her shudder and she opened her eyes to find him. It took a moment to focus, but she smiled just as he swooped down and kissed her, giving her a taste of herself on his lips. Her smile was languid.

"What on Earth did you do to me...?"

Grissom smirk was almost smug.

"I would hazard a guess and say that we found your G spot."

Sara smiled lazily, her eyes closing again.

"Cool."

Grissom wished for a moment that he had his camera with him, but knew that it was best that he had not. He didn't think that he would ever forget this morning, and would probably think of Sara lying here, her robe open and her skin flushed, every time he smelled cinnamon. His own arousal had subsided slightly now, but it felt selfish to disturb Sara's relaxation for his own satisfaction. He straightened up and started to fasten his robe and Sara's eyes popped open.

"Where do you think you are going?"

Grissom stilled, his hands still on the tie-belt. His cock twitched optimistically.

"Nowhere. Why?"

Sara gave him her 'you're not that innocent' look and indicated that he should come and stand at the left of her. He moved around the table as she turned onto her left side. Before Grissom had even stopped moving Sara had her hand delving through the gap in his robe and firmly grasped him. Grissom sucked in air and leaned forward to brace himself against the table.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sorry, another chunk missing, not my fault

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Grissom saw Sara move and distantly realised what she was doing. He felt her hold on him tighten even further, the grip on him firm and the friction perfect. The pressure was building higher and he saw no reason to hold himself back now. He allowed himself to fall headlong into the rushing wave of sensation as it shot through him, concentrating low in his spine until it suddenly exploded into dizzying brilliance.

Sara heard Grissom's cry and felt him shudder as he emptied himself inside her just as her own orgasm crashed over her, making her pulse around him.

When Grissom came to his senses and could see again, he found himself lying over Sara's warm body, still deep inside her, with his head resting on her breasts. He straightened up onto his elbows and looked down to Sara's smiling face. He was convinced that if she had been a cat she would have been purring.

Sara felt fantastic: languid but not sleepy, enervated but relaxed. She still didn't want to move, but it wasn't practical to remain where they were. The smell of cinnamon was everywhere; the powder was in her hair, on their robes and on the floor. She looked into Grissom's eyes and found she couldn't look away. He was right; it was so much better with the one you love. Something about their lovemaking today had seemed different, even more profound than before. Sara knew in that moment that whatever life threw at them, regardless of whether they stayed together or not, she would always love him.

Grissom felt himself start to slip from Sara as they both began to relax. He leaned forward and gave Sara a last kiss before they parted. It was a slow and affectionate salute to the woman he had loved, unknowing, for years. He tried to convey all that she meant to him, all that she had ever meant to him, and all that he had been unable to tell her over the years. It was a lot to ask of any kiss, but Sara seemed to get the message.

"I love you."

They both grinned at their simultaneous comment and Grissom was still smiling as he backed up to help Sara stand. She looked around at the mess and then turned to him.

"I guess the rolls are cool enough now, huh?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Present day, Las Vegas_

Sara emerged from the bathroom, towel rubbing her hair to prevent the drips from going down her back. She automatically looked at her watch to see how much time she had before Rachel would wake for a feed, then remembered that her daughter was sleeping over at her Aunt Catherine's tonight. She and Gil were going out for a meal to celebrate the fact that her six-week postnatal check up had been passed with flying colours. Sara was of a mind to tell her husband that she would rather send the time at home and naked, but he seemed to be keen to go out.

She paused in her hair rubbing as she looked at the bed. A rectangular box was lying on it, the lid decorated with a beautiful and elaborate bow. Sara crossed the room and noticed a small card tucked under the ribbon. She picked it up and read the two words on the front, smiling in wry recognition.

'_From Grissom'_

She turned the card over and read the other side.

'_Please dress for dinner, ring bell when ready'_

Sara dropped the card and opened the box. Inside she found a small hand bell wrapped in tissue, and to her surprise, not a dress, as she was expecting, but a stunning shantung style robe in red silk with matching slippers. It was beautiful and obviously very expensive. She lifted it carefully from the box and held it up to her body in front of the mirror. It was perfect. Still not back down to her pre-pregnancy weight yet, this was an ideal compromise that would fit her both now and when she had lost her baby weight. Sara quickly set the robe down and finished drying her hair. She did her make up with care and a light hand, then dressed in the robe and slid her feet into the slippers. She looked in the mirror again and was pleased with the reflection. She picked up the bell, rang it and waited.

Moments later, Grissom entered the bedroom. His eyes lit with satisfaction and pride when he saw Sara.

"You like?"

She smiled.

"I love."

He nodded, pleased. He brought his hand up and Sara noticed the silk scarf in his hand for the first time. He crossed to Sara and gave her a soft kiss.

"You look good enough to eat. But first I have a surprise for you. Turn around."

Sara's breath hitched. Silk and Grissom in a room together. Always thrilling. She turned around slowly and felt Grissom slide the soft material in place over her eyes before tying it up at the back of her head.

"Okay?"

Sara nodded, smiling, her trust in him total. Grissom took her hand and guided her out to the main room of the townhouse. She felt him stop, so she halted too. Although she couldn't see, she was aware of him moving behind her. She felt the silk being loosened, then her husband's breath on the back of her neck.

"You can look now."

The silk fell from Sara's eyes and she opened them to a sight she didn't quite believe.

Candles.

Lots of them, at various levels, wherever there was a secure flat surface. Different colours sizes and shapes. Short fat ones, tall and thin ones, even one shaped like a ball. Candlelight flickered all around the room and Sara didn't know where to look first to try to take it all in.

Grissom didn't say anything, he just watched Sara's expression and the way the light played over her face, creating interesting planes and hollows. As far as he could tell she was pleased with what she could see.

The dining table was laid out formally; a crisp white damask tablecloth played host to Grissom's best china flatware, while a tall clear vase held a single red rose.

Sara still hadn't moved when Grissom stepped up to one of the dining chairs and pulled it out.

"If Madam would care to be seated?"

Sara couldn't say a thing. She took the proffered seat and leaned back when Grissom shook out the linen napkin before placing it on her lap. The smile she sent him was bright and he smiled back. He poured a pale clear liquid into each of the two wineglasses, and handed Sara one of them. She looked at him a little doubtfully.

"Wine?"

He shook his head.

"Apple juice. I thought you'd prefer it until you stop feeding Rachel. No grapes."

Sara smiled, relieved that he had remembered. She held up the glass.

"A toast?"

Grissom looked at her dark eyes and felt lost in their depths. He wanted to cast aside his hard work and preparations, carry Sara off to bed and keep her there until they were sated.

"Gil?"

Sara wondered at his silence until she looked him in the face. Grissom looked solemn, but the heat in his eyes was answer enough. She relaxed, waiting for him to be ready.

"To you, my sweet wild fire."

Sara looked at Grissom over the rim of her glass as they sipped for the toast. Sweet wild fire. She could certainly do with some of that, and soon. It was going to be difficult working with him when she turned to lustful mush whenever she looked at him for more than a moment. Such beautiful blue eyes.

"This is all fabulous, and I love it, but please tell me there are not that many courses?"

Grissom's smile appeared briefly before he took her free hand in his. He was confident that Sara was not unhappy with his surprise, so he was presuming that – like him – she wanted to get to dessert.

"As many or as few as you would like, but there are three carefully planned courses, all of which are part of this celebration."

Sara smirked, her head to one side.

"In that case, let's get started. Anticipation is as good an aphrodisiac as anything I can think of."

Grissom brought Sara's hand up to his lips and kissed her palm.

"The only aphrodisiac I need is sitting opposite me, but I concede your point."

With a final gentle squeeze of her fingers, Grissom let go of Sara's hand and went to the kitchen area for the first course. He came back with two plates containing a selection of fanned melon slices drizzled with fruit coulis.

Sara looked at the display on her plate and then across to Grissom.

"You do this?"

"Can't you tell?"

Sara shook her head as she picked up her fork.

"It looks too beautiful to eat."

Grissom smiled a little ruefully, knowing that a chef would have made a better display.

"I'll get better with practise."

Sara put down her fork. True, a top restaurant may have made it look more professional, but this had been made at home and with love in every wobbly line.

" ' Beauty is no quality in things themselves: It exists merely in the mind which contemplates them; and each mind perceives a different beauty'. _This_ is beautiful."

Grissom looked up from his plate without surprise. He smiled and shook his head.

"David Hume. Well done, and thank you. Now you can show me the beauty of an empty plate, so I can serve you the next course."

"Cool."

They took their time over the meal despite their earlier desire to hurry. Both had a new appreciation of quiet mealtimes and uninterrupted conversation. They enjoyed each other's company and the delicious food, until the candles burned low and it was time for the last course.

Grissom brought two shallow bowls to the table. Each held a portion of apple pie, obviously home-made, with plenty of real fruit, not a mashed puree, and a golden crust of pastry. But what made Sara sigh with happy anticipation was the pale ball of ice cream just starting to melt over the hot pie.

"Please tell me that the ice cream is the same flavour as the one up at the cabin?"

Grissom just smiled and gave Sara her spoon. She scooped up a small scrape from the top of the ball and put it in her mouth. Her eyes closed in blissful appreciation.

"Oh, yeah, that's the stuff."

Sara looked at Grissom as she tucked into the pie and ice cream with gusto, to his amusement.

"What made you think of putting cinnamon spice in vanilla ice cream, anyway?"

Grissom shrugged, starting his own pie.

"Had it in an Italian restaurant once. Couldn't easily find any in the shops."

Sara paused in her eating. She reached out for Grissom's hand.

"This is the best evening I've had since we were up at the cabin, I can't think of anything that could have made it any better."

Grissom squeezed her hand gently as he responded. He looked unusually serious.

"I'd like to say that the best is yet to come, but I don't want to tempt fate."

Sara looked at him, trying to see if he was teasing her or was really concerned about the rest of the evening. If she didn't know any better, she would think that he was anxious about something. She looked again and amended her assessment from 'anxiety' to 'anxious anticipation'. Her tone was light.

"What's the matter? Worried about later? I promised I'll be gentle with you."

Grissom looked startled then amused. He shook his head.

"No, I have no _concerns_ about later, I'm looking forward to the rest of the evening. The sooner we finish the sooner we can start."

Sara abruptly dropped her spoon into her full bowl and pushed it forward from her place setting. She smirked widely across the table.

"I'm done."

Grissom raised one eyebrow as he looked from the bowl to Sara.

"But, as you can see, I am not."

Sara stood up, pulling at her husband's hand.

"Shouldn't work out on a full stomach."

"Now I _am_ worried."

Sara laughed as Grissom got to his feet with a show of reluctance. They moved around the room blowing out the candles one by one until only four remained. Sara moved towards their bedroom, but Grissom halted her.

"You stay here for a minute, I'll just move the candles."

Sara agreed, keeping two of the candles with her while Grissom took the other pair. He was gone for a few minutes before he returned for the second pair. He left the bedroom door open and the gentle glow of candlelight felt very romantic to Sara. She had never regarded herself as a romantic, but she was seeing a new side to herself as well as her husband in the time they had shared together. It no longer seemed a weakness to admit the pleasure they shared in the appreciation of romance.

Grissom returned to the darkened room. He took Sara's hand in his and pulled her to her feet before picking her up in his arms. Sara linked her arms around his neck as he straightened. She looked over his face, then stared deep into his eyes.

"Thank you for the meal, thank you for Rachel, thank you for being you. I love you so much."

Grissom held her gaze for a long moment, savouring the feel of her in his arms, the heady anticipation of what was to come. He leaned in for a kiss, meeting her mouth on its way to his. He started to walk towards the bedroom, his arms beginning to feel the strain of holding Sara. He didn't want his gesture ruined by an unmanly collapse.

Sara was so busy looking at Grissom she didn't notice the room at first. He nodded towards the bed as they crossed the room. She looked and her eyes widened.

"Oh my God I don't believe it!"

The bed was turned down and dozens of red rose petals were thrown over the pale sheets. In the centre of the bed was a simple white box, about five inches square. A couple of petals rested on the lid. Instead of feeling cynicism or a sense of how corny it was, Sara was truly touched. Grissom moved to place her on the bed and then sat down beside her legs. He picked up the box and looked at Sara.

"Ours has never been an orthodox relationship, and I don't suppose it ever will be, because _we_ are not. Although this relationship happened to us in an unusual order, I have never wanted you to miss out because of it. I don't want you to accept this because you ought to have it, or because it's expected. I want you to have this because I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can't look into your eyes without feeling that longing that you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to tell you how much I love you. This is for all the things that I can't do and say when I want to. This is for you."

"Oh, honey…"

Sara's voice choked, unable to continue. Her fingers trembled like the tears on her lashes as she accepted the gift. She opened the lid and lifted out the iridescent shredding around a smaller white leather lidded box. She took out the smaller box and put aside the empty one. She looked at Grissom before she opened the lid. His previous anxiety was gone, replaced by a calm certainty that delighted her. She opened the lid and any concern that she had about liking its contents vanished. It was one of the most beautiful and striking engagement rings that she had ever seen. Her smile was even more beautiful. She handed him the box with her right hand and held out her left.

"Thank you. It's lovely, just what I would have chosen myself."

Grissom took the ring out of the box and placed it on the finger that held Sara's wedding band. It was a perfect fit. He saw the diamonds flash as she moved to put her arms around him and pull him down for a kiss. Just before their lips met, Grissom pulled back.

"I take it that's a 'yes' then?"

Sara pretended to consider it for a moment.

"I guess so. Of course, you'll have tell me that you love me, need me, couldn't live without me and ravish me regularly."

Grissom sighed happily as he lowered Sara back onto the petals and followed her down.

"Work, work, work."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**EPILOGUE**

_Three months later_

The small church was not full to capacity, but there were sufficient numbers to prevent the voices of the congregation from echoing badly. Catherine and Warrick were already seated, Lindsey sitting quietly beside her mother, awed into respectful behaviour by the atmosphere. Greg, Nick and Doc Robbins were in the row behind. Other friends from the crime lab were dotted around in the next few rows, but Jim Brass was sitting in the other front row with Mary Grissom, having been charged by her son with looking after her should she need anything. Jim was actually quite enjoying her company and his usually slightly dour expression was not in evidence as he smiled at another one of her anecdotes.

Outside the church, waiting for the last of their friends to arrive, Sara looked down into her daughter's face. The baby's dark expressive eyes watched Sara with a look familiar to anyone who had seen Sara at work.

"Sara?"

She looked up at her husband. Just her name, but behind it a wealth of meaning. Was she okay, was there anything she needed, did Rachel need anything?

"We're okay, thanks, honey."

Grissom smiled.

"Five minutes left, shall we go in?"

Just as they were about to go in, one last car arrived. Doors quickly slammed and both of them turned to see who had arrived.

Grissom was very glad to see the young couple that walked quickly over to them. The woman looked pale and tired, but was clearly not letting it get her down. Her smile was dazzling.

"Gil, Sara! You both look lovely, God you're so slim Sara, how do you do it. Ohmigod, this must be Rachel, heavens I hardly recognised her, she's got so big, isn't she adorable, oh, she looks like you Gil."

Sara smiled, so pleased to see Kaley again as she cooed enthusiastically over Rachel.

The two men shook hands, both smiling at the fast flowing rush of words.

"Simon. Good to see you."

"Gil. Glad to be here. Sorry we're late, we had to stop."

Grissom nodded in understanding.

"No problem finding the place, I hope?"

Simon looked at his wife.

"No, just need to use the facilities."

Kaley looked up from her conversation with Sara, her smile wide.

"He's just being polite. I'm ten weeks pregnant and sick as a dog."

Grissom offered sincere congratulations to the couple, which were happily accepted as both women hugged around Rachel. After Sara and Kaley hurried into the church, Grissom and Simon followed at a slower pace. Grissom turned to the younger man.

"Life as you know it will never be the same."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Reverend held the baby securely in the crook of his left arm. This was the part that nearly always made the babies cry, although that was supposed to be a good sign. He dipped his finger in the font water and placed the sign of the cross on the baby's forehead. She screwed up her nose and tried to move her head away from him, then squawked in annoyance when she could not. Grissom could see Sara's involuntary step to take Rachel back, but she subsided and left the Reverend to his task. Grissom took one of her hands in his. She squeezed his hand but didn't take her eyes off Rachel.

"I name this child Rachel Cinnamon Grissom…"

Catherine and Warrick – both Godparents – looked surprised. Warrick leaned closer to Catherine and whispered surreptitiously out of the corner of his mouth.

"Cinnamon?"

Catherine shrugged minutely and whispered back.

"Don't know. Maybe you could ask them later."

Warrick looked at Grissom.

Grissom and Sara successfully hid their smiles, but couldn't resist a glance at each other. What Warrick saw in the look made him lean to Catherine again.

"Or _not_."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Grissom watched Sara strap Rachel in to her car seat, he thought back to earlier in the day when he had been outside the church and he had told Simon that life would never be the same again.

Simon had looked at him.

"_I guess not. Would you go back to the way it was before?"_

Grissom had looked to the doorway that Sara had disappeared through

_Go back to life before the baby? Back before he and Sara were together? It had been a hard path in places, but anything worth having was worth fighting for. He had smiled as he turned to Simon._

"_Never."_

The End, at last.

Thank you for your patience, I hope that you enjoyed the fic. I apologise for the censored bits, but I don't write the rules. Full version available on the adult fan fiction site.

I know that the fertility issues raised here are not so easily resolved in real life and while some women will have a happy outcome, many will not. My best to you all, wherever you are.


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